


To See Heaven in Your Eyes

by Atombombbabyy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Everything, Eventual Sex, F/M, I am maccready trash, Minor canon divergences, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Slow Burn, a little angsty, oc female sole, they need each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atombombbabyy/pseuds/Atombombbabyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows what she has to do, whether she wants to or not. In the sniper she finds someone to weather the storm with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which a decision is made

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into the Fallout fanfiction scene. I am MacCready trash.

           The bar was dark, and the air was heavy with dampness making the whole place feel a lot more oppressive than a bar probably should feel. A lilting voice met her ears before she had even descended the concrete stairs into the bar proper. She reached the bottom of the stairs with some difficulty, and ignoring the scantily clad woman on the makeshift stage she stumbled to the bar. The Mr. Handy iteration with a bowler precariously placed on its head floated over to where she unceremoniously dumped herself onto a stool.

           “What’ll it be miss?” the robot said in a cockney accent. It was washing a glass out with a rag of questionable cleanliness. She peered at it through eyes that felt hot and swollen.

           “Whatever will get me drunk very quickly.” She said hoarsely. If the robot had a face, it would have eyed her incredulously. But it moved to pour an amber liquid into a squat glass. It sloshed down in front of her and she picked it up, eyeing the liquid inside, scowling seeing small particles of unknown substance floating in it. She nonetheless downed it in two large swallows and put the glass back on the bar, with a little more force than she meant to. She felt her lip twitch slightly as the first warm ebbs flowed through her. She pushed the glass forward and tapped the rim.

           “Another one please. And just keep a tab going. I’ll be here a while.” She said to the robot with the oddly out of place accent. It grabbed the glass and refilled it, and she felt that if the robot had had eyes, it would have been judging her with them, which, seeing the other customers in this place, didn’t feel like something this bartender should be doing.

           “I’ll take one too Charlie.” Came a voice from next to her. The robot made the drink and set it down adjacent to her, and she saw a slender hand reach out and grabbed it. She was taking more time on this drink, but already had it almost ¾ of the way gone.

           “Bad day?” The voice said. She sighed and hoped that would be enough to let the guy know that she wasn’t into talking. This didn’t appear to work, as the man placed his now empty glass on the bar and motioned to the Mr. Handy for another.

           “Me too. Bad week actually. Work is kinda slow right now.” He said to her, not taking the hint. She blinked slowly, feeling the alcohol flowing through her, warming her and making her annoyance at this stranger ebb a little. She heard him order himself another drink, and also ask for a third drink for her. This made her irritation subside even further. The woman on the stage was now crooning a slow ballad, her words floating through the air in unintelligible softness. The man next to her rubbed his hand across the light stubble on his chin.

           “Slow is the wrong word for it I guess. Non-existent would be better. But that’s what happens when you piss off the wrong people.” He said with a snort. She placed her drink on the chipped wood of the bar with a slosh and finally turned to look at the stranger.

           Compared to Nate, she thought, she would have described him as scrawny. With the way that he held himself, however, she was more inclined to call him lithe. He had lanky arms and legs that stuck out from a small framed body, and she thought, were he to stand he might only reach 5’8” or 5’9”. His fingers were long and slender, but looked worn. His face was lean, and his nose looked as though it had been broken a number of times. Blue eyes stared at the drink in his hand, the color of the sky right before sunset. His eyes suddenly met hers and she felt an odd pulling sensation in her chest as he half smiled at her. She chalked it up to the whiskey, or rum or whatever was in the glass before her and turned herself more fully to him. She tapped the glass with her fingers.

           “Who’d you piss off?” She croaked and cleared her throat.

           The man half shrugged and made a noise between a laugh and a scoff. His hand reached up and readjusted the military green cap atop his head in a fluid motion, making the bullet that adorned the strap around it flash in the low light of the bar.

           “Probably easier to ask who I haven’t pissed off. This time it’s the gunners though. And if you piss them off when you’re looking for mercenary work, you’re outta luck.” His voice was clear, despite finishing his third drink. He appeared to pass on a fourth, handing the glass back over to the robot behind the bar and making a dismissive gesture to the glass.

           She could have guessed he was a merc, and might have, had she been paying more attention. At the mention of it and with a quick glance at his clothes she noted that he might be quite an accomplished merc, or at least was good at playing the part. The man was armed from his boots to his wrists with at least 4 guns that were visible, and what she guessed were at least 3 knives and a bandoleer of grenades. Ammo belts were slung around his chest and wrapped around his thighs. The shabby jacket he wore did little to hide the arsenal he was packing. She thought to herself that it really wasn’t meant to hide it, and that it was more of an advertisement of him and his services than a show of what weapons he held.

           “Gunners, huh?” She said, trying to steady her voice. The alcohol was doing its job, and well. Her reason for drinking suddenly seemed very far away. The man straightened in his seat and she thought he was moving to leave. He just readjusted a strap on his chest and settled, smiling crookedly again at her.

           “Yeah gunners. I’m not their favorite guy right now. And it’s not doing me any favors. I think I might be using my last caps up drinking here with you. May have to sleep with one of the psycho addicts in the street tonight.” He said this with a hint of humor, and she knew it wasn’t said looking for pity, it was said with the matter of factness of someone that had had to do it before. She eyed him as he sat there, and a thought struck her through the haze of almost drunkenness.

           “I’ll hire you.” She blurted bluntly. His eyes flashed briefly, and then calmed and flicked over her. He spun on the stool and propped his arms against the bar.

            “You don’t look like the type to need a merc.” He said shortly. His eyes scanned over her, and she thought of how she must look, her light leather armor in various stages of removal. She felt suddenly that her dark hair had fallen almost completely out of the tight ponytail she had had it in that morning. She wasn’t really in a mood to care, however, though she made a motion to shove a strand back out of her face.

           “Well I do, if you’re up to it.” She downed the rest of the drink in her glass with a bit of dramatic flair and placed it, again a little harder than intended, back on the bar in front of her. She reached into her smallish backpack and pulled out a jingling bag of caps. She slid it onto the bar with a smirk playing on her full lips. He turned back around in his seat.

             “What’s the job?” He asked, his eyes darting from her to sizable bag of caps she had just dumped onto the bar in front of him.

  
             She steeled herself. She had only come to this conclusion moments before the merc sat down, and the emotion of the decision still weighed on her vaguely through the haze of drink. She inhaled deeply.

             “I want someone to help me blow up the Institute.” She said, carefully watching his face as she said this. If he was shocked, his face didn’t betray him. His eyes flicked from the caps in front of him, back to her, then back to the caps, then finally back to her face to stay. His fingers twitched oddly, and then he quickly moved his hand out in front of him towards her.

             “The name’s Robert MacCready. Most people just call me Mac.” She took his hand in hers, willing herself not to shake from the booze. He was warm to the touch, almost hot in the cool air of the subterranean bar. Her voice came out low and steady.

             “And I’m Erin. Just Erin.”


	2. "Follow the Freedom Trail"

      Two weeks had passed since their meeting at the Third Rail in Goodneighbor. Erin had sobered up quickly after articulating her decision to MacCready, and they had spent the next couple days forming a shell of a plan. Erin couldn’t help but wonder if the slight framed man thought she was crazy, or even just dreaming too big, but if he did, he didn’t let on so. She had decided to only tell him the fewest of details, keeping her vault survivor status to herself, as well as why she had tried to get into the institute in the first place. The less anyone knew about Shaun the better, she had thought.

      MacCready had only asked the necessary questions, and even those were few and far between. Perhaps he truly wanted to help her in her quest, or, more likely it was the exorbitant number of caps she had paid him to accompany her. They had bought as much arms as they could feasibly carry, along with ammunition and some dry goods. After taking stock and discussing what they needed to do, they had decided to stop by Diamond City to speak to Piper Wright, resident journalist and rumor mill runner. They had just finished their meeting with her, which had been rather unhelpful, gathering only that were they to take on this huge task, they would probably need a large explosive, and that they more than likely could find help if they found a group called the Railroad. Piper had known little about this group, only that their base was located somewhere in Boston, they helped runaway synths from the Institute, and that were one to look for them, they must “follow the freedom trail”.

      “I think I know what to do about both of these problems.” Erin said, with the air of someone that was mostly speaking to themselves. They were sitting at the large pavilion in the center of the city, listening to the bustle around them. MacCready was slurping a bowl of noodles that had been haphazardly placed in front of him by the robot that ran the place. His eyebrows raised in a look of both amusement and questioning. Noodles hung out of his mouth as he struggled to bite them off back into the bowl. Erin ran a hand through her ponytail, picking out a loose strand and letting it fall to the ground.

      “The Freedom Trail is a collection of historical stops around Boston. I’ve seen them before. There must be some clues along the way or something to help us get to the Railroad. Easy enough.” She said, eyeing the merc as he shoved another forkful of the noodles into his mouth.  

      “And as for the explosive situation, the Institute may have solved that problem for us themselves.” She said, eyeing a fly that was lazily buzzing around her untouched bowl of noodles. The merc next to her grunted.

      “Howsh tha’?” He questioned through his mouthful. Erin shrugged one of her shoulders.

      She breathed in sharply through her nose, taking in the air that always held a faint metallic tinge to it. The bustle of people around them had slowed with the coming evening. Somewhere in the distance, and eyebot playing music sounded, the tones reaching her ears slightly distorted, but she still felt a pang of nostalgia hearing the songs.

      “They’re building a giant nuclear reactor in the basement of the place. Should be easy enough to get it to go into a meltdown.” She said casually, not reacting from the sputter beside her.

      “H-How do you know that?” MacCready asked incredulously. Erin turned in her seat to face him. The merc wiped a hand across his mouth and turned his full attention to her. She was staring into the sky, above the buildings around them, eyes focused far away.

      “Because I’ve been there. I’ve been inside the Institute.” She said quietly, watching MacCready’s blue eyes almost bug out of his head. With a speed that surprised her, he grabbed her by the arm almost roughly and pulled her away from the central location and down a small alley beside a shoddily built shack. She followed a few steps behind, not sure whether to jerk her arm away or not. Finally he stopped towards the green wall of the city. He whirled on her and met her eyes. She was very aware of him, and how close he was to her.

      “Okay, first of all, you can’t just blurt out that you’ve been inside the Institute in the middle of this place. With all the synth hysteria? Do you want to be killed in the street?” He said, his voice low and hoarse. His head whirled around to see if anyone had followed them. She noticed for the first time that his bottom row of teeth were crooked, the canines jutting out in front of all the others, which looked jammed into his jaw. She blinked at him, and he continued.

      “Also, what the hell? How have you been there? No one has been there!” He exclaimed, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Erin shrugged again.

      “I have. I built a kind of teleportation relay with the help from the Minutemen and some settlers in Sanctuary Hills. I can get in and out as I please.” She said matter of factly. MacCready’s expression was full of questions and Erin hoped she could get away with the barest of explanations. His eyes searched hers for a split second, and Erin felt that pulling sensation in her chest again. She shrugged the feeling and his gaze off. MacCready, sensing that no more information was forthcoming at this time, shrugged as well.

      “I’ve heard crazier I guess. You’ve got no reason to lie to me. I guess if I ask you if you’re a synth you’ll just tell me you’re not, no matter what. But I’ve never met an escaped synth that knew how to get into the Institute. And if you’re not an escaped synth, but a replacement, I can’t think of any reason you’d want to blow the place up.” He said this, as if to himself, as if reassuring himself. She could see his mind working out these questions, and finally coming to the conclusion that she was not, in fact, a synth, his face relaxed again.

      “Well you’re not paying me to ask questions, I guess. So what’s our next move?” He asked, leaning against the rusted wall behind him. She sighed and kicked a pebble on the ground. The sounds of the city around them were muted here, and she welcomed the relative quiet.

      “Find the Railroad. Follow the Freedom Trail. I think it starts at the Commons.” She said. She saw the man stiffen immediately as she said the words. He stood straight up from the wall. The fingers of his right hand made the odd twitch against his leg.

      “The Commons? They say people don’t come back from there.” He said ominously. Erin remembered the Commons fondly enough, and wondered what state of disrepair they were in to make MacCready act this way. His demeanor had switched from relative calm to one of alert nervousness. She was acutely aware of the change, as if it was an energy surrounding the man.

      “Why not?” She asked, a little more harshly than she would have liked. This whole journey was looking longer and longer than she had thought. She had, in the drunken stupor that enveloped her at the Third Rail, thought that she and this mercenary would just go blazing into the Institute, set off a self-destruct button, and walk off into the sunset as the place became a smoking pit behind them. As she sobered, she realized the undertaking was going to be quite a lot larger than she had thought, and it was beginning to irritate her. 

      “No one knows. But nobody goes there. Not Raiders, not Gunners. Not even Super Mutants or ferals will wander in there.” He said with a visible shiver. Erin couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. A place that ghouls won’t even go had to be bad, she thought. She shook the thoughts from her mind though, knowing that they must go there to continue the task she desperately needed to complete.

      “Well it can’t hurt to go and see at least. We will just scope it out. If anything looks odd we can re-evaluate.” She said. MacCready pondered something on the ground for a moment before nodding and letting out an agreeing grunt. They set off wordlessly and exited Diamond City, the sun sliding down at their backs.


	3. Beware the Swan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are liking it so far! Feel free to leave any critiques in the comments! Thanks!

           Erin had learned over the course of their short time together, that MacCready’s tactical style and hers synced almost perfectly, as if they had trained together. Both of them preferred the dark, allowing for stealth to conceal them and afford them the time to make the perfect shot. Taking their enemies by surprise and quelling any disturbance before it had time to occur. Over the fairly quick trip from Goodneighbor to Diamond City, they had fallen into an easy reliance, working as a team almost from the get go.

           She found that MacCready’s outfit did not betray his skill. He was very good, noticing movements almost unperceivable to the normal eye. More than once he had been able to pick off a Raider standing on a building almost a block away. His intuition matched hers almost exactly, to the point where they would wordlessly agree to avoid an alley, or skirt widely around the shell of a car, both knowing that the other sensed the same danger that had tipped them off.

            While MacCready’s eye was sharp at distances, Erin had found that he somewhat lacked a sense of his immediate vicinity, and had had to stop him from stepping on a forgotten frag mine on more than one occasion.

            Together they were a formidable team, she had thought, taking down the occasional feral ghoul and Raider before they had crossed the safe border into Diamond City. Now, heading away from the safety of the “great green jewel”, her nerves were on end. She more than once had had to rein her imagination in as it went wild thinking about what horrors could be lurking in the Commons.

            It wasn’t a very far distance from Diamond City, and they had run into no trouble aside from a pack of wild mutated dogs, that were probably more bark than bite, but had been dispatched all the same. She wiped a leather clad arm along her forehead, removing a strand of sweaty hair from her face. The sun was dipping beyond the horizon as they silently moved along the shadows of the buildings of the street leading to the commons. Erin felt a hint of familiarity. She knew this area. She had been here before, in another time. She didn’t let this show on her face, however, as MacCready looked back at her, silently asking if they should proceed. She nodded minutely, and they came to a stop at the corner, looking out into the large clearing of the Commons. Her companion’s eye went to the scope of his rifle, a shabby looking thing held together by duct tape and prayers, but she had seen its deadly accuracy first hand. He glided the weapon slowly around the area multiple times before lowering it.

           “I don’t see anything.” Was all he said, at barely a whisper. Erin had been surveying the area as well, though not through a scope, and she had come to the same conclusion. There was a wrought iron gate surrounding what had once been a pond. And a destroyed dock stood in the center. On the other side of the Commons was an entrance to the metro and a bit beyond that was a white stone columned gazebo. She could clearly see that there were no out of place shapes, or ominous movings in the area.

           “Well let’s keep quiet and move along the fence. If I remember right, the trail starts at the entrance to the Commons.” Erin said, her voice only slightly audible against the breeze. MacCready nodded to her, then crouched, and moved slowly into the clearing, out of the relative safety of the shadow of the building.

            The twilight was perfect for the pair of them. Dark enough to conceal their movements, but still light enough to see the ground and their surroundings. They crept around the iron gate for a time, before the man in front of her stopped short. She almost bumped into him; the transition from movement had been so abrupt. She peered around him and saw what had stopped him. The body of a raider, badly bloated and decomposed was sprawled on the pavement. She hadn’t smelled it, but her nose had become accustomed to odd smells, and the wind must have been blowing in the opposite direction. What caught her eye though, wasn’t the body, but a piece of plywood next to the body. It read “TURN BACK. BEWARE THE SWAN.” In frantic white letters. Mac’s eyes met hers, wary in the half dark. She swiveled her head and shrugged, still not seeing anything, and nodded for MacCready to continue. He obliged, and the two moved again, this time side by side, instead of single file.

            They reached the main entrance to the Commons in short order. It was lit by a small lantern, which gave off an ethereal glow in the dim autumn light. Erin gave a glance around, and stood up, reaching her full height, though that barely topped out at five feet. She had stepped up to a plate in the ground, in front of a large fountain, when a sudden metallic grinding noise, deafening in the silence, came from beside her, causing her to start, and both her and MacCready swung their weapons up to a Protectron that had begun to stumble out of its charging pod.

           “Welcome. To. The. Boston. Commons.” It began in its halted robotic tone. The voice of the metal being was loud, and echoed off the walls of the buildings around them. She swore under her breath, and MacCready put a swift silenced bullet into the robot, causing a crash as it crumpled into a metallic heap on the ground beside them. Erin’s heart thrummed in her throat. She swallowed, trying to get a grip, her ears ringing in the silence that followed.

            “Was that the horror of the Commons?” Mac’s voice came from behind her, a hint of a smile in his words. She was halfway turned to him when the crack of wood and splashing of water alerted her to something churning in the pond in front of them. She squinted, but then her eyes shot open.

             A hulking figure began to unfurl itself from the murky depths of the water. As it moved, Erin tried to calculate its height, but it just kept rising, easily reaching 20 feet tall. As water poured off it, she saw it held what looked to be a light post in its massive hand, with a huge piece of rebarred concrete affixed to the end to create a deadly weapon. Awakened by the noise of the Protectron, the huge beast stretched its arms wide and swung the club down in a deadly arc, creating a vibration that shook the ground all around them. A deafening roar came from its mouth, and she almost clapped her hands to her ears. She felt MacCready grab her arm from behind her, pulling her back to reality. She backed up a few paces, pulling her combat shotgun off her back.

            “Behemoth.” Was all she heard from MacCready. The massive creature was climbing out of the pond now, and its head was turned in their direction, toward the direction of the noise the Protectron had made, damned thing. Erin ripped her eyes away from it, to the man beside her. He had his rifle readied, and looked expectantly at her.

            “Find high ground. Distract it. Head shots.” She said briefly, forcing her voice to work around the knot in her throat. Without acknowledgment he was off, and she crouched and ran towards the end of the fence, trying to formulate a plan in her mind. The creature was almost to the lantern light now lumbering steps creating vibrations throughout the Commons.

             She couldn’t see Mac now, but she knew he was finding the best nest that he could, and lining up shots. Erin found a scrubby bush just as the huge creature reached the protectron’s lifeless body. It reached down and pushed the heap of metal with an enormous finger, pulling back when an errant spark popped out of the pile of robotic limbs. The behemoth screamed an unearthly scream and slammed the giant club it wielded into the metal, grinding it into the ground. Its head whipped around in all directions, and then stopped. It lifted its nose into the air and sniffed audibly. She cursed and hoped the wind was in her favor, but then remembering the corpse they had encountered, knew it was not. The creature whirled with a speed belying its massiveness and took a few steps in her direction. For a brief moment she shut her eyes, knowing the futility of it but still hoping it might help. Her heart was pounding so fast and hard she thought the behemoth must be able to hear it.

             Her eyes flew open when she heard the beast bellow once more, and stumble in her direction. A sickening feeling hit her in the pit of her stomach as she realized it must know she was there. She drew her gun up in front of her, preparing to fire when a squelching noise came from the beast’s head, causing it to stagger. It screeched and turned in the direction opposite Erin, and she took this time to sprint towards the dock. MacCready’s shot had been true, but this creature was huge, and she knew that shot had probably no more than irritated it. Still, the screech it had let out had been comforting, and she knew it could be hurt. She clung to this as she waded through the disgustingly scummy water, towards the cover of the small building.

             The beast was turning now, in an almost comical fashion, from where she had been in the bush, to where the mercenary’s shot had come from. She reached into a pocket of her leather armor and pulled out a frag grenade. She pulled the pin and hurled it in an arc towards the creature, watching it hit its mark at its feet. She silently counted down and braced herself as the grenade went off, spraying bits of concrete down around her. Another eerie cry came from the monster, but as the dust settled, she saw that the bomb had done little more than scrape the shins of the beast.  Suddenly it turned towards the dock, and picked up a large piece of shattered concrete, and hurled it through the air.

              Erin watched the huge rock as it tumbled, almost slow motion, through the sky. She barely had time to cover her head with her arms when it smashed through the rotted wood, bringing the entire structure crumbling around her. The main projectile had missed her, but the wood and debris falling around her battered her, almost knocking her over. She felt a metal beam strike her face hard, but she didn’t have time to assess the damage before she heard a strangled cry from the beast. She pushed out of the crumbled remains of the dock to see the behemoth clutching its eye. She almost smiled. MacCready was blinding it.

               While it was indisposed, Erin surveyed where she should move next. The cold water was welling up around her feet and she knew she needed to get out before she became too bogged down. She couldn’t move to her left, as that was towards MacCready, and they needed to keep one of them on either side of the creature, to keep it confused.  The only other place to go was towards the monster.

              She disentangled herself from the remainder of the ruins and moved, as quietly as possible, towards the massive being. Every fiber of her willed her to move in the opposite direction, away from the looming danger, but she knew she needed to move forward. The beast had removed one of its hands from its head and was hurling chunks of concrete towards the location that it thought MacCready’s shot had come from. Erin knew none of these would come close to hitting the merc. Another squishing sound and an immediate scream of pain told Erin that MacCready’s next shot had hit its target. The beast was now completely blinded.

              The behemoth, still roaring with pain picked up its club and began pounding it dangerously in a circle about its feet. Erin watched, calculating its swing and then launched herself at the beast. Her shotgun braced against her shoulder, she began loosing rounds into the mutant. She hit its legs, and torso, and even sent a few errant shots towards its crotch. The behemoth turned towards her, swinging the club fiercely with both arms, but it was slow and blind, and Erin moved easily out of the way of the deadly thing. She could see rivulets of blackish blood pouring from the things head and knew MacCready was still shooting, even though she could not hear the shots. She pumped round after round into the beast, flitting in and out from under its legs. Roars of pain and frustration escaped the behemoth’s mouth. It had dropped its club, and was now wildly grabbing and pounding the ground where Erin had been moments before. As her magazine emptied, she reached into her messenger bag, still dangling from her shoulder and touched something. She had forgotten about the box they had bought from Arturo in Diamond City. She pulled it out, the metallic lunch box with the words “Vault Tec” embossed on the side. There were wires poking out of it, and a light at the top that let her know that the seemingly harmless box was actually a live, powerful bomb. She set the switch and tossed it on the ground, then let out a yell to the creature.

              “Over here you big ugly fuck!” She screamed, and the behemoth spun around to her voice. She sprinted backwards as fast as she could, but had miscalculated the behemoth’s huge steps. It stepped in the vicinity of the mine, and she heard its three beeps, too close for comfort, and tossed her arms up over her face.

               There was a large explosion, and the sound of tiny pieces of metal hitting the ground. She felt shrapnel pierce her arms and a portion of her face she had not been able to cover. The shock wave had knocked her backward into the marshy bank of the pond, and she laid there for a minute, dazed. When she pushed herself up, she saw the behemoth, sprawled out on the ground, blackish blood pouring from where its legs used to be. It was still. Her head spun and she urged herself to her feet, blinking back spots and picking her weapon up from beside her. She fought back the ringing in her ears, trying to hear anything from the beast, but it was silent. A movement beside her startled her, but she didn’t move, and MacCready’s hand grabbed her arm. He pulled her towards where he had been perched, next to the stone building on a slight grade up from the fountain at the entrance to the Commons.

                “It’s dead. I put a couple more in its head to be sure.” His voice said. It sounded far away, and thought that it was because her ears were still ringing. He stopped moving near the gazebo and came in front of her, staring at her face.

                “That was amazing. You were amazing.” He said, almost to himself. She watched his lips move and wanted to say something back, but her mouth suddenly felt like cotton. MacCready was stooping in front of her, his pack pulled open on the ground and he was rummaging through it. Was she in shock she wondered? No, she had been in shock before. This was more of a daze. The shockwave of the bottlecap mine must have hit her with more force than she thought. Suddenly water was being pressed to her lips. She drank, careful not to take too big gulps, though she felt like she hadn’t drank in days. MacCready was watching her, eyes flitting to the body behind them occasionally.

                “I’ve never heard of anyone taking down a behemoth short of a Brotherhood of Steel squad with Power Armor and a Vertibird.” He said breathlessly, pulling the water away and stooping to the bag again. He emerged with some gauze and a stimpak. He pressed the gauze to her face and pulled her hand up to make her hold it there. She did, and watched as he started to pull at her other arm. She pulled away gently.

                “No, I don’t need it. Save it. I’m fine.” She said hoarsely. He looked at her, but let go of her arm and dropped the stimpak in the bag. He was very close to her.

                “Are you sure? We can spare one. You have a nasty bruise on your face, and a few good cuts. I thought when that concrete destroyed the dock that you were… Well, let’s just say that when I saw you crawl out of the wreckage I had to check my scope twice.” He said, his eyes skimming across her face. She gave him a small smile, and pulled the gauze away from her face, forcing clarity into her mind.

                “Yes, I’m sure. I just need to sit I think. Just for a minute.” She said, crossing her legs under her and starting down to the ground.

                “It was luck that I wasn’t crushed, really. The block only missed me by a bit, and if the wood wasn’t so rotted, I might have been smashed by a falling beam.” She said, recalling the smell of the decayed wood. She sighed. The ground felt solid under her and she breathed deeply, calming herself. Her heart had stopped hammering, but with the slow loss of adrenaline came the throbbing pain in her head and face, and the prickle of pain from her cuts. She shoved these feelings down and gazed past MacCready, who was gathering his stuff back into the bag, and taking stock of his weapon.

                “Behemoth you called it? Is it a super mutant?” She said quietly. The merc’s head swiveled to look at the body, and then back to her. A disbelieving look crossed his face as he surveyed her, before looking back to the legless monster.

                “You’ve never heard of a Behemoth before? Yeah, they’re super mutants. But even the mutants don’t like dealing with them. Too big and stupid I think. They sometimes keep them in pens in their larger camps. But I don’t think they have much control over them either.” He explained, his eyes coming back to watch her. Her gaze stayed on the mutant. She thought back to being under it, its massive legs bigger by far then she was. She remembered the ground shivering under her feet as she danced to stay out of the way of the huge beast. She shuddered at the memory.

                “We should get going.” She said matter of factly and ungracefully made her way to her feet. MacCready reached out a hand to steady her, but she waved it away. She picked her bag up and slung her gun over her back and started down the way towards the fallen mutant. MacCready hastily gathered his things and followed her.

                “Are you sure? We can go to Goodneighbor, stay the night there, it’s not that far from here. You should rest, at least for a few hours.” His voice came from behind her. She was already half way down to the body, approaching it with only a slight hesitation.

                “We can rest for a bit here if you want, but then we move. I’m fine, really. Do these things usually have stuff on them?” She said, changing the subject as she reached the edge of the concrete where the beast lay. She circled it, keeping about 5 feet between her and the body. She felt the merc still observing her.

                “Honestly I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen one in person once, in the Capitol Wasteland. It had a crowd of mutants moving it through some ruins. I never thought I would see one again. There aren’t many of them around. We could check I suppose.” He said thoughtfully, approaching the large legless corpse. He was careful to stay out of the congealing blood, and stepped up to the hanging piece of armor by the waist of the beast. He reached his hands under the piece of metal; it looked like a street sign of some sort, and fumbled around.

                Up close, she could see why the board had said, “BEWARE THE SWAN”. The mutant had taken the broken pieces of a swan paddle boat and crafted them clumsily into makeshift armor about his shoulder. The chipped wooden wing lay broken beneath the beast, but she could see the once beautiful craftsmanship of it. MacCready had brought out a large pouch, and began pulling things out of it. Mostly garbage, there were bits of armor from hapless travelers mixed in. As well as a broken shotgun, a couple shots of med-x, and a jingling container of caps.

                “Jackpot!” MacCready cried, tossing the bag to Erin. She barely caught it, and was surprised by the weight of it. Whoever lost this would be sorely sorry, if they were still alive to miss it, she thought. There might have been about 1000 caps in the bag, judging from the heft.

                “50/50 good to you?” Erin said, jingling the bag in the merc’s direction. He surveyed her, and the corner of his mouth twitched up.

                “How about 70/30? You did most of the work anyways. And I feel like I got enough payment just getting to live to tell this story.” He said, his fingers jerking oddly on his leg. She was beginning to notice this twitch as a trend for whenever he was nervous or excited, and didn’t have a trigger to pull. She eyed him and then slipped the pouch into her bag to be sorted later. MacCready made his way over to her, pointing back to the white stone building behind them.

                “We can camp there for the night, if you won’t go to Goodneighbor. It’s got good line of sight, though I doubt anyone will be coming through here anytime soon.” He said, already making his way up the slight hill towards the marble structure. She sighed and followed him, secretly grateful for the coming rest.


	4. The Railroad

 

                Following the Freedom Trail, proved to be easier than she had thought. Though maybe everything would seem easy compared to taking down a super mutant behemoth. They only had to follow a red line along the ground that took them to different historical sites around the ruins of Boston. It was a little difficult in places, as the line disappeared under debris or they ran into a camp of raiders and the like, but ultimately, compared to that night in the Commons, it was smooth sailing. Erin had slept almost 12 hours after their encounter with the behemoth, and had torn into MacCready for letting her sleep so long. He had laughed and told her it was good for her having just had a building crash down on her head, but she thought she saw a flicker of worry line his face, and had begrudgingly forgiven him, though had made up the time by not stopping for more than 5 minutes for the next 2 days.

                She had deciphered from the beginning that each historical mark along the trail held a different number and letter circled in red paint on it, and had made a note of them on her pip-boy. MacCready had been skeptical about this, thinking secret codes and intrigue excessive, and impatiently pushed to reach the end of the trail, scoffing audibly when the next marker did not denote the end of the journey.

                 Erin vaguely remembered following this trail when she was young, when the streets were clean and full of non-mutated, non- hostile (for the most part) people. Before the world lay in ruins. She kept this to herself however. She thought she remembered where it ended, and was rewarded with being right as they approached an old church, tucked behind some buildings, with the last marker on the ground outside.

                “Finally!” MacCready had said, approaching the door. “Check that out.” He pointed to a painted white lantern on the wall of the church. Erin noted the last number and letter combo on the ground, and shifted her bag so she could pull her gun in front of her.

                “Shall we?” She said, gesturing towards the tarnished brass handle of the door. MacCready grinned and grasped the handle with slender fingers, turning the handle with some effort to keep it from making too much noise. The pair crept into the building slowly, coming into a foyer filled with old and broken display cases. As the merc closed the door behind the two of them, she blinked her eyes to adjust to the sudden dark. She could see a doorway ahead, with light streaming into a large room in small slits from the rotting ceiling. The room must have been the church proper, she thought as they approached. She saw the wreck of the room, with tipped pews and debris scattered on the floor. She also saw the crouched figure of a disgusting, withered looking human in the corner. She motioned to the spot to MacCready, who had already seen it.

                “Ghouls.” He breathed, and set his sight on it. Erin nodded slightly and his finger flicked over the trigger. A silenced round left his gun and caught the ghoul in the head. It fell in a heap on the floor. MacCready made a small sound of excitement at hitting his target and dropped his weapon from his shoulder. The death of the ghoul hadn’t gone unnoticed though, and a rasping cry rang out through the building.

                “Shit.” She exclaimed as the creatures began to pour from every nook and cranny. MacCready swung his rifle onto his shoulder and pulled out two pistols from his belt. He took aim and started firing as the first ghoul turned and noticed their position. Erin braced her shotgun on her shoulder, crouched next to the merc and picked off the closer ones, as MacCready took down the ones farther away, the .10mm getting farther range than her combat shotgun. The pile of ghouls built quickly, and from their choke at the door they had dispatched all of the shambling creatures in short order.

                “I hate ghouls.” MacCready said, not disguising the disgust that dripped through his voice as they quietly picked over the bodies, moving to the other side of the room in quick silence. Erin could see how uncomfortable he was, giving the emaciated bodies a wide berth and hurrying past them.

                “Well there are likely more of them down here.” Erin said, motioning to an open door, outlined by the glow of a strange fungus. She heard the merc sigh, but he took up post right behind her, and the two descended the stairs.

                The stairs led into a crypt below the church. The musty smell filled Erin’s nose and she furrowed her brow at the scent. No matter what year it was, old, dank, underground smelled the same. It was dark, but there were periodic lanterns, and oddly enough, lit candles as well.  They moved along the narrow corridors, taking out the straggling ghouls that they met along the way. After a time, they came to the end of a hallway, with no other outlets around, save the way they came. There was a plaque on the wall, and an out of place wire attached to the wall. The plaque was the same as the Freedom trail signs they had been following. Erin reached out to touch it, and the outer ring moved.

                “Still think I was wasting time writing all that stuff down?” Erin asked. MacCready shot her a look and she pulled the notes up on the glowing screen on her arm. She moved the ring to the letter with the number 1 next to it, “R”. A clicking noise resonated from behind the plaque, and she shot a glance at the merc, who was conveniently avoiding eye contact with her. With a wry smile on her face, she finished imputing the letters, slowly spelling out the word “Railroad” on the plaque.

                “The password is “Railroad”?” MacCready asked dubiously. He rolled his eyes at her as she shot him a wry look, and pressed on the middle of the plaque, causing a grinding noise of stone against stone to sound out in the narrow hallway. The two stood ready as the wall in front of them pulled away, revealing a squat doorway leading into absolute darkness. The two stepped in, and the thought crossed Erin’s mind to flip her pip boy light on, when a blinding whiteness filled the room.

                “Stop where you are and lower your weapons.” Came a commanding female voice from in front of them. Erin squinted through the dazzling light and held her hand to her eyes, her gun lowering towards the ground. She saw MacCready still pointed his, and she coughed at him and reached her hand out to touch his arm. She felt the lean muscles under his jacket tight with tension.  He reluctantly lowered his pistols a few inches.

                Erin could see there were three people before them, and two machine gun turrets. The woman in the center, whom she assumed was the one who spoke, had auburn hair and wore a heavy looking jacket. She had no weapon, but as Erin’s eye flicked to the person to her right, she saw she didn’t need one. The person next to the woman in the center was tall. She had silver hair, styled into a Mohawk that fell over her dark skin almost to her ears. She was wearing a version of the same jacket, but it looked more padded, and came up over her neck. She was also holding a huge gun, hunched back on her heel to keep her balance should she need to start shooting it. The last person was a man, dressed simply in a white shirt and jeans, wearing sunglasses. He was leaned against the wall behind the others, with a look that Erin could only describe as amusement playing on his face.

                “Why are you here? How did you find this place? Who sent you?” The woman in the middle asked loudly, an edge to her voice that could cut steel. Erin could feel the man beside her tense, and she dropped her weapon lower, flipping her hands so her palms faced towards the low ceiling.

                “We thought we might find help here. No one sent us, we came on our own.” Erin said shakily, eyes flitting between the woman in the center and the woman with the gun. The woman in the center took a step forward.

                “You’re mistaken. Turn around and leave now. No one here can help you.” She started saying, then to Erin’s surprise, the man behind her spoke.

                “C’mon Des, I told you about her. This is the one! The one that’s been inside the Institute. The one that killed the courser at the marina. She found the scientist in the Glowing Sea, for god’s sake!” He said, coming up beside the woman he had called Des, but keeping his eyes fixed on her. Out of the corner of Erin’s eye, she saw MacCready glance at her, and the pistols in his hands lowered farther to the ground. She hoped that the man had exhausted his knowledge of her and her exploits, or at least was done putting her deeds on display. There was a silence where no one seemed to breathe. Then the woman spoke.

                “Is this true? What he says?” She asked Erin dryly. Erin swallowed hard and nodded.

                “Yes. I, um, I did those things.” She said, a bit feebly. MacCready shifted his weight next to her. She could feel his eyes on her, joined with the eyes of the others in the room. The woman in the middle contemplated for a moment, and then visibly made a decision.

                “If Deacon vouches for you, then you may enter. We will talk more inside.” Was all she said, and then she turned sharply and vanished into a dark corridor she had been standing in front of. Once she was gone the tension in the room seemed to lessen a great deal, though sparks of it still hung in the air. Erin approached the concrete stairs leading up to the platform, where the man in the sunglasses still watched her.

                “Thanks.” She said quietly to him as she came nearer to him.  She wasn’t sure, but she thought the shock of dark hair on his head may have been a wig. A dazzling smile played on his lips.

                “No worries. Desdemona isn’t all bad, she just sometimes needs reminding that there are still good people out there. Come on in. She’ll wanna speak to you.” He said in a relaxed and cool voice. He started walking a pace or two ahead of her, turning into the dark hallway. The woman with the huge weapon just stared warily at them, and stood in her place, not following the group in. MacCready had holstered his weapons, but Erin could tell by the uneasy twitch of his fingers that he was only a minutes notice from arming himself again.

                The air in the dark tunnel was heavy around them, and Erin felt quite claustrophobic, not really able to see where the walls were, but being able to feel them near. There was a faint glow emanating from a crack under a door, and then a sudden beam of light as the door was opened. Erin resisted the urge to throw her arm up to block the light from her face, but saw that MacCready had.

                Inside the doorway was a crypt, evidenced by the half lidded sarcophagi that still littered the room, some being used as makeshift tables, some benches. The smell was musty, like an old basement, but with a faint smell of oil and gunpowder underneath it. The woman Desdemona stood at a round dais in the middle of the room, papers strewn over it, with bits and bobs of weaponry and ammo skittering through the leaflets as they were moved. There was a small gun range, and another room off to her left, where she could see the outline of a robot moving within. The place was almost unsettlingly cramped and Erin suddenly couldn’t wait to get back above ground.

                “Now then. Tell me why you have come here. And tell me how you know of us.” The auburn haired woman said as Erin and MacCready approached. She was obviously suspicious of the pair, and stood straight and tall as they stopped opposite her. Erin cast a quick glance at the merc beside her, but he was occupied looking about the room, eyes stopping only momentarily on things before flitting around to something else. She thought he may have been looking for another exit.

                “I’ve only heard rumors of you. And a riddle. “Follow the Freedom Trail.” So we did. They say you help runaway synths from the Institute?” Erin questioned, her grey eyes meeting amber ones. Desdemona eyed her for a moment before allowing an almost imperceptible nod to shake her form.

                “Yes. We help synths escape their lives at the Institute. We help them become who they wish to be, instead of slaves.” She said curtly. Her eyes moved to MacCready, watching him for a moment before turning back to Erin’s. She waited expectantly for Erin to answer the remainder of her question. Erin steeled herself and took a breath.

                “I need your help. To destroy the Institute.” She said, allowing the weight of her words to blanket the room around her. The effect was instant. Almost all the background noise in the small crypt stopped. A few people who were scattered around the room turned their attention to Erin and the mercenary now. The silence was almost deafening.

                Desdemona’s face was unreadable. At first, Erin had though she had seen a faint glimmer of amusement on her face, but it had returned to its almost stone like state.

                “And just how do you plan to do that?” Was all she asked. Erin carefully recalled her tale of information gathering, finding the escaped Institute scientist in the glowing sea, killing the courser, and building the relay. She told them of entering the institute, and the proposal from the director for her to help them. She told them of the nuclear reactor that they had shown her, deep beneath the already subterranean Institute. She told them all of this, careful to leave out Shaun. Careful to leave out her vault dweller status. Careful to only tell them what they needed to hear.

                She watched the faces as she told her story, some were awed, some unbelieving, most just rapt with attention. She knew MacCready’s was among these; she had told him almost nothing about her journey before meeting him, except that she had been to the institute, and about how the scientists there had made a deal with her to have her help them. She had thought it better this way, for now. But she still felt a small pang of guilt pulling at her when she saw his face out of the corner of her eye, staring at her with what she thought was mild betrayal.

                “So that’s why we’re here. I want to stop them. I need to stop them. From taking more people. From causing more terror.” She ended rather feebly. Desdemona nodded, and the man she had called Deacon sidled up beside her.

                “Well that’s one of the crazier ones we’ve heard. But if Deacon says you’ve done all that you say, then I am inclined to believe you.” She said cautiously. Erin nodded, and a wave of relief washed over her. She was eager to discuss more with the woman, to see what the Railroad could offer them for help. This was short lived, however when she saw a cunning smile slide onto Des’s face.

                “If we are going to help you however, we are going to need reciprocation. We need reassurance that you are actually here to help us, not Institute spies.” She said, her voice calculating. Erin felt MacCready tense next to her, though she thought this might be imperceptible to someone that hadn’t spent much time around the man.

                Erin nodded for the woman to continue, and Des shuffled a few papers around before finding what she was looking for. A ratty looking piece of paper, with what looked like numbers on it, with a few letters interspersed, and a navigational point. She slid it across the dais to rest in front of Erin, who lightly picked it up and scanned it, before passing the paper to the mercenary beside her.

                “We’ve gotten word of a synth that is being hunted by the Institute. He has recently escaped and has fled out of the city. We believe that the Institute is closing in on his location, but we aren’t sure. All we have is his Institute designation, and the last place he was spotted to go off of. I’m short on agents to send out to help him. If you find him, and retrieve him safely, then we will do everything in our power to help you.” She said, watching the both of them with a visible mix of apprehension and anticipation. Erin’s eyes met MacCready’s, and he shrugged minutely, something that to the outside observer may have meant nothing, but to her meant that he knew that this was the only way to get their help, and so he was in.

                “Okay. We will do it.” Erin declared. It was as if a breath had been let out in the room. Suddenly the crypt seemed to bustle with activity again, even though she hadn’t noticed that it had stopped. This time, a true smile twitched at the corner of Desdemona’s lips. She seemed about to dismiss them, when Erin rooted around in her bag and pulled out a holotape.

                “I think this will be, um, helpful to you. It’s a holotape I used to download information from the Institute when I was there. I’m really not sure what all is on it, but you can see if it’s useful.” She said, handing the holotape to the amber eyed woman who took it carefully, as if it may explode if dropped.

                “Thank you.” She said reverently. She motioned to a man standing in front of a computer to the side.

                “Tom. See what you can do with this. And be careful!” She admonished, handing the tape over to the man. She turned back to the pair.

                “Speak with Tinker Tom if you need any supplies before you head out. And the doctor in the corner over there can probably spare some supplies if you need them.” She said, gesturing to a man in a lab coat, and the man she had just given the holotape to, who she could see wore a very bizarre looking piece of head gear. The merc made eye contact with her, and shrugged. She began to carefully make her way over to the strange looking man, stepping around loose junk piles and over a man sleeping on a makeshift pallet on the floor. Tinker Tom was hunched over the keyboard of a terminal that looked to have been built out of whatever parts were lying around and held together with bits of string and what Erin thought was Pre-War bubble gum. They had just approached the man when his head whipped up, eyes meeting Erin’s around the oddments that covered his face.

                “So you’ve actually been in the Institute before, huh? What was it like?” He asked, and she noticed that even though his huge brown eyes were intently focused on her, his slender fingers were still ticking keys on the board in front of him. She rocked on her heels before answering.

                “It was…clean.” She said, rather undramatically. The man looked disappointed for a brief moment, and then his teeth flashed white in a smile at her.

                “Clean. Well that’s not something you get out here in the Commonwealth, is it? Clean. Clean.” He repeated her words to himself. Erin traded a look with MacCready, who looked helplessly at her, a small smile hiding just behind his eyes. Erin turned her gaze back to the strange man.

                “Um, well, Desdemona mentioned that you may have some supplies and we were wondering if we could take a look?” She said, trying to guide the man back to a conversation with her. He smiled widely and stopped his tapping on the keyboard to pull a trunk out from under the metal table he stood in front of.

                “Desdemona always knows when I get the good stuff in. Got something real interesting in here. Something powerful and new.” He said, flipping the locks back on the box and opening it. A small cloud of dust particles drifted around them as he dug into the box that looked mostly filled with empty shell casings and pre-war tech magazines. Finally he found what he was looking for and pulled out a long weapon. It was unlike anything Erin had seen before, with a long barrel and what looked to be a steam whistle mounted around where the top of the weapon crossed the grip. She took it from the man and promptly almost lost her grip on it. While not extremely heavy, it definitely weighed more than she had expected.

                “That there is a Railway Rifle. Shoots bonafide railroad spikes.” Tinker Tom said proudly, his hands resting on his hips and his eyes focused on the rifle as though he was watching his child. Erin hefted it up to her shoulder and looked down the sight before handing it over to MacCready, who took it eagerly and began closely examining it.

                “Like, real spikes? The huge things they build- I mean built, train tracks with?” Erin asked, slipping her wording but catching herself. She looked at MacCready who was too busy with the gun to notice her even speaking. Tinker Tom nodded with such force that the gear on top of his head wobbled precariously.

                “Yep! It will rip the head clean off a raider and nail it to the wall behind them. I’ve seen it myself!” He exclaimed, eyes growing larger in his head so that Erin felt suddenly as though she was being stared at by a large nocturnal animal. MacCready looked at Erin with longing, but handed the gun back to Tinker Tom. They both knew it was a bit too heavy to be lugging on a rescue mission across the Commonwealth, no matter how much thee both of them wanted to see it in action.

                “Maybe we will pick it up another time, Tom. We like to travel light. Keep to the shadows, you know?” Erin said delicately. Tinker Tom cradled the rifle in his arms, one of his pinky fingers rubbing circles on the barrel. She could swear relief flickered in his eyes.

                “Ahh, well, too bad. It will be here though, if you wanna take her for a spin some time.” He said, replacing the weapon in the trunk and letting the lid slam down. He slid the box back under the rusted table with his foot, and then immediately went back to typing, almost as if the two had never spoken to him at all. Erin shrugged at MacCready, and the two turned to bid farewell to Desdemona and Deacon heading back out of the crypt and out through the church, back into the fresh (relatively) air.


	5. University Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter here!

                A quick glance at her Pip-boy had told Erin and MacCready that they had to head south, through the ruins of Boston to an abandoned military checkpoint. That was the last place the synth had been spotted, and that had been several days prior. It was anyone’s guess where he was now, and how far he had traveled.

                Since leaving the Old North Church, things had been slightly tense between the two. Erin had silently cursed the man with the sunglasses for revealing so much about her dealings before meeting MacCready. She knew he had questions, but didn’t know how, or if, he should ask them. One part of her wanted to tell the mercenary everything, to lay it all out for him, consequences be damned. Another part of her didn’t know how he would take it, and wondered if he would stay after learning everything she had been through, everything she had discovered.

                The day had been spent in relative silence, picking through the ruins at a steady clip, pausing only to take out the occasional Raider that they met along the way or for a quick water break. They were nearing the edge of the city ruins when they decided to make camp for the night. They had found a small garage with a rolling door they could pull down to block any light that they made. It felt wonderful to stop and sit and not have to be immediately aware of things happening around them.

                 Erin had dropped her bag on the ground and was sitting propped against it, breaking into a tin of potato chips she had come across earlier in the day. MacCready had been pawing through some cabinets in the garage and had found a lantern that he was now trying to light. A quiet curse met her ears and then a dim light flooded the room around them.

                “That’s better.” MacCready said under his breath. He dragged his bag with one hand and held the lantern with the other and sat himself across from Erin, placing the light between them. Erin avoided his gaze, looking at a particularly interesting chip, but she could feel his eyes boring into her. The man shifted and coughed lightly.

                “I had a wife, y’know.” He said abruptly, breaking the silence of the night. Erin jerked at this sudden revelation, her eyes darting up to meet his, but saw that he was staring at the lantern. The night outside was still around them, making his voice seem all that much louder than it actually was. She didn’t say anything, but waited for him to continue.

                “She…died. A couple years ago.” He said thickly. His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard. Erin drew her finger through some dirt on the floor, wondering how to proceed.

                “What was her name?” She asked softly, watching the man’s eyes shimmer in the dull lantern light.

                “Lucy. Her name was Lucy. We were attacked by a pack of ferals in the place we were staying for the night. Lucy, me and… our son Duncan.” He explained, his voice fading to barely a whisper when speaking the name. Erin’s heart sunk to her stomach. She could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she thought suddenly of Shaun.

                “Duncan and I escaped, but Lucy… she made me leave with him. She made me leave her. After that, I couldn’t look at Duncan without seeing her face as she screamed at me to get him out. I love my son, but I left him in Rivet City to come here, telling myself that I was helping him by leaving. Saying I could do more for him if I was making a living here. But really I can’t look him in the eyes. And I know he can’t look at me. He was so young, but he knows I left his mom to die. He knows I left her to save him and I think he hates me for it.” MacCready’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper, full of emotion. Erin felt a tear escape her eye and hastily wiped it away. The man sniffed and his eyes shifted to meet hers.

                “I told Lucy I was a soldier. She believed that until she died, that I was an honorable guy, doing honorable work. I told Duncan the same when I left, that my squad was needed here in the Commonwealth, and that’s why I had to leave.” He spoke through a scoff, his voice becoming clearer. Erin was suddenly very conscious of him, his breathing and his subtle movements. His features were stark in the lamplight, handsome and lean. She could see his long fingers resting on his thighs as he sat there. She was struck with the desire to reach out to him, but fought it back. She fiddled with a loose thread on her boot instead.

                “I guess I’m telling you this because I know what it’s like to have secrets. Things you don’t want to tell people or things you can’t tell them. I couldn’t tell Lucy that I was just a mercenary; I was too much of a coward. But I would give anything to be able to have that ability now.” He said slowly, as if he was picking each word he said very carefully. Erin swallowed.

                “All I’m saying is that I won’t ask if you don’t wanna tell. But if you do, then you can tell me. Because what we are doing is dangerous, and I know a thing or two about regret and I know you don’t want that feeling to follow you the rest of your life, no matter how un-guaranteed that life is.” He said, finishing in a low voice. Erin contemplated him for a bit. She saw his fingers twitch against his thigh in that odd gesture of anxiety and fought to repress a smile.

                “There are things… I just can’t.” She said, very softly so MacCready had to crane his neck to hear her. A rueful smile touched his lips, but his gaze didn’t break from hers.

                “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere. You point and I shoot, that’s the arrangement, remember?” He asked her through a smile. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch up at this and nodded.

                “Yeah. I remember.”

 

                After that night, the tension between them was gone. In fact, they were more in sync than ever. The air was clear between them, or at least as clear as it would be for the moment, and she found herself truly at ease with the mercenary for the first time since they had met. She thought that on some level MacCready felt the same way, the weight of the truth about his wife and son lifted off his shoulders by speaking about it aloud, probably for the first time since it had happened. His lean form had lost some of the rigidity it had held before, and they had even ventured to begin joking with one another, laughter echoing, sometimes too loudly, off the buildings that lined the streets they walked on.

                They exited the ruins of Boston around noon the next day, and Erin was glad to be out of the cramped space, away from the towering buildings and blocked views. There had been very little activity for them since they left the confines of the garage they had spent the night in. Only a small family of radroaches had impeded them, and she had laughed as MacCready had forgone his weapon to try stomping the massive bugs, which evaded his foot with ease making him look like he was doing a strange dance on the cracked sidewalk. The day was warm for autumn, but she reveled in it, knowing that while the nuclear holocaust had made weather patterns erratic and unpredictable, soon much colder temperatures would be blowing in.

                She pulled her arm up to check her Pip-boy. She had told MacCready that she had bought if off a trader she had come across coming out of Vault 81. He had seemed to believe this, though she didn’t know if he actually did or not. He had little interest in the thing, however, choosing to rely on the sun to tell the time, as well as the direction he was moving. Erin thought this was all well and good, when he got it right that was. She saw that they were nearing the checkpoint and adjusted her weapon over her shoulder, pointing to MacCready slightly to the left.

                “It should be just over that rise there.” She said, watching his gaze follow her finger. He nodded and came in step with her. He was so close that their arms brushed every now and again with their movements.

                “Mac?” Erin asked suddenly, and slowed her pace so she could look at him. He didn’t turn to look at her.

                “Hmm?”

                “Where is Rivet City?”

                At this he stopped walking and stared at her.

                “You’ve never heard of Rivet City? In the Capitol Wasteland?” He asked, looking her over.

                “Where?” She asked stupidly, and almost immediately regretted it. His eyes narrowed at her, but then softened again. A smile flashed across his thin lips.

                “You aren’t from around here, huh?” He asked, laughing as Erin sputtered slightly and looked for an explanation.

                “Rivet City is one of the largest settlements in the Capitol Wasteland, that is, in the part of the country that used to be a place called D.C.” He explained slowly, as if remembering something out of a book. Erin nodded quickly at him.

                “When I lived in the Capitol, it used to be where I would go to trade supplies. It was where I met Lucy. It’s where Duncan’s godparents live. Where he lives now.” He said softly, eyes flickering from her to the horizon. She bobbed her head slowly at him but the two let the conversation end there.

They began moving again, slower this time walking alongside each other once more.  She was getting ready to open her mouth, to say what, she didn’t know, when the checkpoint came into view. Immediately the two crouched and MacCready’s rifle swung down off his back to fit easily against him, his cheek pressed into the stock of the weapon as he peered through the scope. Erin watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the cluster of vehicles.

                There were a couple vehicles, all in various states of disrepair, all in a semi-circle on the road. There was no movement that she could see from where they stood, and the small shake of the sniper’s head told her he saw nothing as well. Wordlessly, and still in a crouch, the two moved closer to the barrier.

                As they came up to the vehicles, they saw that a skirmish seemed to have taken place. The trucks and trailers were covered with burn marks from laser weapons, and the fusion cell cartridges littered the ground. Among these were also the bodies of Gen 1 synths, mostly in pieces with some sparks occasionally hopping from one of the prone figures. MacCready ducked into a trailer and Erin heard his voice call to her. She kicked the arm of a synth that was still clutching its laser pistol out of the way and hastened towards him.  He was standing inside of one of the storage trailers, a bedroll and a small chem box at his feet.

                “I think he was here.” He said, pointing with the tip of his rifle. Erin crouched by his feet and rummaged through the abandoned stuff. The merc watched her for a moment before turning to scan their surroundings. There was very little amid the gear on the trailer floor, but right as she was about to stand, a flash of orange under the sleeping bag caught her eye. She pulled back the stained cloth to reveal a holotape. She waved it in front of MacCready’s face, smirking at him.

                “We’d have no way to listen to this if it weren’t for my Pip-boy.” She said mockingly and watched his eyes roll skyward. She popped open the compartment for holotapes on her arm and pressed it gently back down. The machine whirred for a moment and then an ear piercing screech met their ears, causing MacCready to slap his hands up to block out the sound, and Erin to hold her arm as far away from her as she could. The noise subsided and there was a garbled sound before actual words started to be discernable.

                “I think they found me. I don’t know where I am but there’s a large campus a couple miles ahead with some lights. I think I’m gonna head there when morning co- oh shit!” The tape cut out then. The voice had been a harsh whisper until the end, when she assumed he had been attacked by the synths she saw strewn about.

                “Do you think he made it?” MacCready asked, watching Erin remove the holotape and place it in her bag. She looked at the Pip-boy on her arm before answering.

                “I don’t know. But I think the campus he was talking about may be University Point. It’s only a mile or two from here, southeast.” She said, looking up from her Pip-boy and gesturing off the path of the road into the dusty expanse of the wastes.

                “We should at least go and look?” Erin said questioningly, seeing MacCready’s face take on the skeptical look it sometimes took on when he wasn’t sure about one of her hunches.  He half shrugged however, and shouldered his rifle again, waiting for Erin to come up beside him before falling into step with her. The wind was beginning to pick up as the morning faded into afternoon, but the sky stayed relatively clear as they passed under the towering remnants of an old overpass, where they stopped to eat and rest momentarily. Erin checked the device on her arm and saw that they were mere moments from their destination.

                “Have you ever heard of University Point before?” She asked the mercenary, who was running his hands over his rifle, checking the integrity of the weapon for the umpteenth time that day.

                “Maybe, the name sounds familiar. I think it’s a trading post or a settlement or something.” He said, and after deciding that the rifle was in the best condition it could feasibly be in, stood up and picked up his backpack. Erin followed suit and the two made their way down the small hill that led to the outskirts of a ruined outcrop of buildings. They were cautious, moving quietly up to the sides of a collapsed building façade. Most of the holes in the buildings were boarded up, Erin noticed, and the path seemed to be funneled to a single opening in the walls. MacCready sidled up to the opening and peeked around the corner. After a moment he stood up straighter and turned back to Erin.

                “I don’t see anyone. There’s a big clearing with a couple shacks in the middle, then some buildings along the sides. I can’t get too great of a look.” He said in a whisper. Erin nodded, meeting his eyes. Silently the two agreed to move into the settlement.

                Erin immediately noticed large white letters on the wall in front of them that said “Traders Welcome!” in friendly script. She brushed a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face and swiveled her head to see some basketball hoops and a generator that wasn’t running. The entrance to University Point was the broken shell of a building, and she could see what MacCready had seen through a hole blown in the other side of the wall. A wide field stretched in between a circle of buildings, the one opposite them a large and foreboding stone building, about 3 stories tall, mirroring the height of the buildings in the circle. The other structures that she could see were the usual New England buildings, with clapboard siding and porches, though they bore the scars of the Great War, as everything did. The people here had run ramshackle walkways from building to building, creating a spider web of connections so that one could get around from the buildings nearest them without having to go to ground level.

                Erin and MacCready carefully entered the courtyard, scanning left and right with their weapons at the ready. They had reached the shacks in the middle and cleared them. Erin nodded at the building they had passed on the way in, and the two headed towards it. The hairs on Erin’s neck had been standing on end since they had entered. She had thought that it was the abandoned feel of the place that looked so recently inhabited. But as they swept the house, she fought back the thoughts that they were being watched.

                They had cleared the first two floors, and were moving along the outside wooden path when a flicker of movement caught her eye. MacCready had seen it too, and his rifle whipped towards the flash they had seen. Whatever it was disappeared and the two were quickly in pursuit, ducking past splintered boards and skipping lightly over holes in the floorboards. Ahead of them, Erin saw they were chasing a man in tattered clothing. She thought about calling out, but changed her mind as she saw that the places he could run were quickly running out. The man cornered himself in a room on the second floor of the next building over, and turned to face his pursuers. His hands were up and his eyes were screwed shut. Erin lowered her shotgun an inch.

                “Are you DN-89?” She asked, using the designation that Desdemona had given them. The man’s face relaxed infinitesimally and one of his eyes opened to examine her.

                “Y-yes. But I prefer Owen.” He said in a cautious whisper. Erin tried to smile reassuringly at him.

                “The Railroad sent us to help. We can get you someplace safe.” She said, not sure how much she should tell him. Both of his eyes opened at this, and for a moment relief colored his face. She felt her reassuring smile broaden, but then it fell as she saw Owen’s face contort into sheer terror.

                “You didn’t kill the synths?!” He exclaimed, a shaking arm pointing behind them.

                “HALT.” A mechanical voice bellowed and she could hear a laser pistol charging up. Calculating quickly in her head she whirled on her heel, bringing her shotgun up to synth head level and pulling the trigger in one fluid movement. Sparks flew and the metal body shuddered to the ground in a twitching heap. Her shot had been low and had hit the synth in the neck, severing the head from the body without much damage to either part, creating an almost comical sight as the head of the synth spun on the floor from the momentum. As the echo of her shot reverberated off the buildings in the circle, they heard other tin voices calling out and begin shuffling around them. It was impossible to tell how many there were, but there were definitely more than Erin wanted to deal with. She turned to face the mercenary.

                “Get him out. I’m going to distract them. I saw an opening between two buildings leading into the water. I’ll meet you guys on the other side from there.” She said quickly, shooting MacCready a look to stop him protesting. He simply met her eyes and kept them there for a moment, before grabbing Owen’s arm and pulling him in the direction of the exit. Erin turned towards the window in the wall next to her. Looking out she could see five or six synths crawling over the courtyard, searching for what made the noise. She kicked out the last shards of glass from the frame and crawled through it, dropping the couple of feet onto the makeshift wooden walkway below. The boards creaked ominously under her, but held fast. She aimed at one of the synths in the field below and fired, the buckshot in her gun probably only scratching the finish on the synth’s metal body, but she wasn’t looking for deadly shots just yet. The synths all turned to her, and she could hear their automated responses, sounding like the cries of seagulls in a harbor.

                 Laser shots soon began firing past her head, but she was ducking into the next building now, moving at a quick pace but not quite running. At the next window, she peeked out and loosed another shot into the crowd of synths, who were trying to figure out the best way to get to her. She was trying to calculate the time it would take MacCready to get the rescued man out, but figured it wise to just head for her escape route and hope for the best.

                She reached into her pouch and pulled out a frag grenade, and pulling the pin with her teeth she chucked it through the window in the general direction of the synths. She felt the vibration surge through her as it exploded, and thought she heard the tinkling of metal hitting various objects, but couldn’t be quite sure. She was almost to the corner now, at the last building on the side before the large stone one that sat edged against the water. She began looking for a way downstairs and found it, taking the steps two at a time in her rush. As she was about to turn to the next set, however, she heard the heavy footsteps of the synths heading towards her, and turned back up the stairs just as she saw them round the corner of the room she had been in. Heart in her throat, she leapt back up the stairs, resigning to take another route down.

                The synths were struggling up the stairs, she could hear them slowly maneuvering and silently thanked whomever that the robots they had sent weren’t as coordinated as the later generations. Erin scanned the room on the third floor for another escape route. She bounded out, back onto the wooden walkway that hugged the outer wall and, dodging the stray lasers from below, ran back in the direction of the entrance to University Point. She only hoped that MacCready and the man were far enough away that her following them wouldn’t cause undue trouble. She had made it by now to the closest building to the entrance, the faded blue one they had come across Owen in.

                She was rounding the corner to the stairs again, ready to fly down them when the face of a gen 1 synth popped in front of her vision. She barely had time to pull the trigger on her shotgun, sending it flying back in a sparking heap when two more rounded the corner, these with ticking shock batons. She spun around fast, heading back up into the room, suddenly feeling like a rat caught between two cats. She could see the synths she had left at the other end of the buildings making their way down the catwalk now, and she could hear the two, or was it three now? On the stairs behind her. Frantically she searched for another way out. She climbed on top of a dilapidated dresser and started to squeeze through a hole in the ceiling. She tried twice before resigning to drop her shotgun to be able to fit through.

                She came out onto a flat rooftop, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins and also feeling the finality of someone who has become trapped with no weapon. The roof next to this one was peaked, with no chance of climbing over it, and the other side was empty space. She hurried to the edge of the roof and looked over. She could hear the synths clamoring over themselves to get through the hole she had climbed through. They would be up any minute. Her boot edged over the side of the roof, whose eaves stuck out too far for her to swing into a window, or back onto the catwalk. She heard the first of the synths, one with the ticking shock baton birth itself onto the roof. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bringing her other boot up onto the ledge. She could hear another synth coming out onto the roof, and thought that the first one must be closing in on her. It was now or never.

               Her left foot had just floated over the empty expanse when she heard something whiz past her ear, so close she thought she could feel the heat of it. She braced, expecting to be hit by a sparking baton, but instead heard the clattering of the robot behind her. This was closely followed by the same sound from the second synth on the roof. Erin held deathly still, knowing her movement could affect the sniper’s shots. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought it might knock her off the ledge. The synths, not hearing the silenced shots or being able to see what was happening on the roof kept filing up, and kept meeting the same fate, until a large pile of six bodies lay on the ground right behind Erin.

               She opened her eyes, and saw the glint of the gun from across the courtyard. She backed off the ledge of the roof and hastened down the hole, kicking aside the bits of metal and plastic that littered the ground. Finding her gun once again, she raced down the stairs towards the ground floor and out into the courtyard. She saw MacCready running towards her and she slowed, but he didn’t. He crashed into her, and almost knocked her to the ground. She thought she would have fallen, her legs being the jelly that they turned after enduring intense adrenaline, but the man’s arms were around her, keeping her standing.

              “What the hell was that?” He gasped into the top of her head. He was squeezing her tight, and her face was pressed into his chest, right below where his collar bones were. He smelled of sweat and gunpowder, and she drank it in, everything suddenly becoming more vivid in the aftermath of staring at death. She could feel his heart pounding in her ears and closed her eyes, breathing heavily. She could feel a blush redden her face, a heat she couldn’t control.

              “I thought you were gonna let me jump.” She spoke through a forced laugh, willing herself to get a hold on her shaky voice. She felt the vibration of a chuckle go through the man as she grasped him. His body felt hard as steel, muscles still tensed from stress and exertion. He pulled her back, hands tightly grasping her upper arms. Blue eyes met grey ones, and a small smile showed on his lips.

              “I wouldn’t leave you like that. I came back the minute I could get that stumbling idiot somewhere safe. There were more than I thought, but I didn’t think you would actually jump off a three story building…” He trailed off, eyes still static on hers, hands fixed in an almost iron grip on her arms, as if she might float away if he weren’t holding her.

              “Might have hurt a bit, but I’d probably live.” She said, not believing her own hoarse words. The man in front of her shook his head imperceptibly.

              “And then what? Me have to drag you and all your broken bones halfway across the Commonwealth to get help?” He asked through a smile. She smiled slightly back at him, her heartrate coming back to a normal pace. Her eyes studied his face, and his studied hers, just for a moment before the smile faded. His grip tightened faintly on her and he was suddenly serious.

              “I need you to know something.” He said. Erin swallowed hard at the sudden change of his tone. “I won’t ever leave you. If you’re in danger, or trapped, or anything and I have the ability to be there, I will. Just stand still and I’ll be there.” He said, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. Erin nodded slowly. His face was stark, and she knew these were not just words. This was an oath.

               Their eyes searched one another for a moment more, and then MacCready’s grip loosened on her arms. The merc cleared his throat and looked to the exit of the place. Reading his expression, Erin turned to where he was looking.

              “Where did you leave him?” She asked quietly, the blush fading from her face. She saw that he had reddened too, the bit of chest that shown through his shirt now fading to a dusty pink under his tan. MacCready adjusted his weapon and gestured towards the other side of the compound.

              “I found a shed outside one of the buildings and locked him in it. He’s a panicky mess.” He said, heading in the direction that he had pointed out. Erin followed, legs still a bit wobbly but steadier after their embrace.

               Her mind raced, distracting her from their quick jaunt across the field. Had MacCready meant to hold her like that, or had his adrenaline just been spiked as hers was? And had she actually felt calmed and comforted with his arms around her, or was it simply that she was safe again after coming so close to death? She looked at the back of the man walking in front of her. And if it was the latter, why did she felt a sudden emptiness when he let go of her, as if something had been yanked out of her grasp?

               They turned the corner around the far building and Erin saw a small door to a rickety shed a couple yards away. It had a large piece of cinderblock in front of it, and as MacCready bent to move it out of the way, she eyed him. He half shrugged at her.

               “Didn’t want him to run again.” He said shyly, turning the handle to the small building. Owen was sitting against the far wall, a small combat knife clutched in his hands. Erin suppressed the urge to laugh at the man.

               “You alright there? Sorry I had to leave you like that.” MacCready said, extending a hand down to him. Owen surveyed the hand for a moment before taking it and muttering a small word of understanding.

               “Are they gone?” Owen asked, peeking around the door frame, the knife still held in one of his hands. Erin nodded and gently took his elbow.

               “They’re gone, but more will be coming. We have to move. If we are quick, and lucky, we should be able to reach the Railroad HQ by nightfall.” She said, and MacCready cast a dubious eye to her, and then to the sky.

               “Now then,” Erin said, ignoring MacCready's look. “Let’s get out of here.”


	6. What was lost

             As it turned out, MacCready’s silent prediction had been correct, they had barely made it back into the ruins of Boston when night fell, blanketing the landscape in darkness. Had it just been Erin and MacCready, they may have been able to navigate, but Owen was clumsy, stumbling over even the largest obstacles. Resigned, they found a small building, an old corner store with boarded windows to stay the night in. After clearing the structure and cleaning a space on the dusty floor, the small group sat down and got comfortable, lighting a few candles that were found in a drawer.

             It was silent for a bit as they ate. Erin was almost ready to turn in when MacCready shifted to Owen, a quizzical look on his face.

            “Why did you leave the Institute?” He asked. Owen’s brow furrowed and he thought for a moment, as though he hadn’t supposed that he would have to explain his decision.

            “It’s awful to be a synth there.” He began quietly. Erin felt her heart skip a beat.

             “They treat us like slaves. Like we are expendable. We’re just numbers to them; even though they’re the ones that gave us sentience… gave us the ability to think.” He went on, gaining confidence. MacCready listened intently.

            “If you’re lucky, you’re just on cleaning detail. But if not…,” He said, pausing to gather his thoughts, “If not they take you to the labs. They do experiments on you. Take pieces of you. Replace your memories. Change who you are.” Erin swallowed hard. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she took a deep breath, trying to calm it.

            “The Director is making it worse too… he is calling for more replacements every day. He kidnaps people and replaces them with synths whose identity he changes. He says it’s for the greater good, says he’s helping the Commonwealth, but-,” Erin stood up suddenly, causing MacCready to jump and Owen to jerk back.

            “I need some air!” She said in a strangled whisper, feeling the panic rise up in her chest and tears begin to form at the corners of her eyes. She lunged for the door and tore it open, letting it fall back a little too roughly.

            She gasped in the night and tried to contain her sobs. The cold air stung her lungs and burned her cheeks but it made the tightness in her chest lessen. She put her hands to her head and closed her eyes, feeling the world spinning. Shaun was doing this. Shaun. Shaun. She kept repeating his name in her head. Her son, the one she had carried and loved was killing people, was causing all this pain. Pain she saw in the faces of the people she helped every day.

            She sat down hard on the ground, taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself. She had partially succeeded when she heard the door open and close behind her. She rubbed an arm across her face, streaking the remnants of tears through the grime on her cheeks.

            “Hey. Are you okay?” She heard the sniper’s voice getting closer. She took another shuddering breath and pushed herself up from the ground. The man had come up beside her now. She looked at him with an unconvincing smile.

            “Yeah. I’m good now. Just needed some of this fresh wasteland air.” She said sarcastically. MacCready let his eyes run over her, unbelieving. He was only a bit taller than her, shorter by far than Nate had been, but this close to her he seemed so much larger than she was.

            “Did they take someone from you?” He asked softly, and she froze. It was the first direct question he had asked her about her past since they had met up. She thought about how to answer him.

            “Yes.” She said shortly, her eyes finding a spot on the horizon as she remembered Shaun, so small in his crib those 200 some odd years earlier. MacCready’s hand touched her arm, and her gaze shot to his face. Her heart almost broke seeing the look that touched it. It was sad, but understanding as well. She felt the hot tears welling in her eyes again and fought them back.

            “My son.” She said, answering the unspoken question between them. It was the truth. The Institute had taken him, but she didn’t feel ready to tell him everything. Not just yet.

            MacCready’s face had turned from hers, and she thought she could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes, but he blinked them back. She was overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of guilt, and wanted nothing more than to tell him everything she had been through, who she was, who her son was, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. They stuck in her throat, held back by the threat that he may leave if he knew the truth.

            “I-I’m sorry.” He said lamely. His tone made her want to fling herself into his arms, to have him hold her as he had earlier in the day. She felt the pulling sensation in her chest that she felt when he was near to her. These thoughts running through her head surprised her. Maybe it hadn’t been the adrenaline that had made her feel the way she had before.

            “It’s…yeah…” Was all she said. The merc cleared his throat, breaking the silence that surrounded them. He turned back to the building.

            “We should go back in. Owen will get worried.” He said, starting towards the door.

            “MacCready?” Erin called, causing the man to stop in his tracks. He turned to her, face unreadable in the dark of the night.

            “Thank you. For today.” She said feeling that these words were inadequate to what she felt, but still needing to say something about it. A grin broke out on the merc’s face.

            “Don’t mention it.” He said, and the two of them went back inside together.

 


	7. I'm a Good, Good Neighbor

            The last leg of their trip went much faster with the light of the day and a night’s rest under their belts. It was just after noon when they approached the Old North Church again, and wary of the return of ghouls, headed down into the crypts, with Owen making small scared noises at every sound. Erin liked him, but would be glad when it was just her and the sniper once more. Erin input the letters of the password into the large spinning plaque and the door to the safe house slid open with a grinding noise. To her amusement, Deacon was the only one they saw, leaned against the back wall of the stone entryway. He smiled widely, still wearing the sunglasses in the dim light of the subterranean room.

            “You’re late!” He exclaimed through flashing teeth. MacCready swore under his breath at the man. She was beginning to think he didn’t like Deacon much.

            “Yeah, well, we’re here now. Meet Owen.” Erin said, gesturing to the hunched man behind her. She sidestepped him and he shrunk back, trying to hide behind her again but she slid out of the way once more.

            “Awesome. Welcome Owen. Come on, Des will be stoked to see you all made it back in one piece.” Deacon said, turning on his heel to go down the dark hallway that led to the crypt. Erin poked Owen in the ribs to follow him and he jumped but obliged, shuffling after Deacon with Erin and MacCready close behind.

            As they entered the Railroad’s main base, Erin saw that Desdemona was still at her place behind the dais, though now turned to a chalkboard, pondering it. At Deacon’s entrance, the room had gone silent and she turned, watching the group as they entered. Erin’s hand was planted firmly in the middle of Owen’s back, marching him forward. Desdemona’s face lit up in a disbelieving smile.

            “You did it. I can’t believe it. I thought for sure we had lost him back to the Institute.” She said, voice loud in the contrasting silence of the crypt. Erin saw MacCready’s eyes roll in her peripheral vision.

            “Yeah well you almost did.” MacCready said dryly, causing the woman to shoot him a look, her face turning to steel for a second before becoming soft and welcoming again and looking at the other member of their party. Erin pushed Owen forward and he slid reluctantly towards Desdemona.

            “That’s Owen.” Erin said, speaking for the man in front of her. “He’s a little…cautious.”

            Desdemona looked him over fondly.

            “I’m Desdemona. Welcome Owen, to the Railroad. We’re here to help you.” She said reaching her hand out. Owen eyed her cagily, but nonetheless grasped her hand and allowed a brief shake.

            “I know you’ve been through a lot, so I’m going to hand you to my friend Doctor Carrington. He’s gonna look you over and make sure you’re healthy and then get you some new clothes and something to eat.” She said, gesturing to the dark haired man in the lab coat that took residence in the corner. He signaled slightly, and Owen carefully made his way over to him, waving a small goodbye in Erin’s direction. She smiled at him before moving closer to Desdemona.

            “You said you would help now?” MacCready said harshly, and Erin reflexively reached out and smacked his arm. Desdemona smiled sweetly at him, and then turned her attention to Erin.

            “Yes well while you’ve been gone I’ve been going over some ideas. We have some synths inside the Institute that act as spies, and from what information we have gathered it seems synth happiness is at an all-time low.” She said, shuffling some papers in front of her.

            “How do you have spies in the Institute?” MacCready asked suspiciously. Erin blanched, becoming worried that his disdain for the Railroad may hinder them helping her.

            “There are a lot of unhappy synths, as well as synths that would help their unhappy comrades escape.” She said shortly.

  
            “How do you know they won’t turn on you? On us?”

            “You seem to underestimate the cruelty of the Institute, and you underestimate what those under the Institute’s boot will do to get out from under it.” She said, her gaze boring into the man. MacCready just returned it, the same suspicion lacing his eyes.

            “I’ve seen synths risk everything, risk their very identities simply for the chance to leave. I’ve seen their successes, and their failures. I know who I can trust, and I know who to keep my eye on.” She said, the ironic note in her voice not going unnoticed by either MacCready or Erin. The merc let his gaze drop from Desdemona’s. She cleared her throat and turned to address Erin more fully.

            “It seems if there were to be a rebellion, it would make a perfect distraction for you to get in and do what you need to do. This would also provide us with the perfect opportunity to liberate the largest number of synths we ever have. There are just a few catches.” She continued. Erin shifted her weight. There were always catches.

            “Such as?” Erin asked softly. This time it was Deacon who spoke.

            “Such as there are a damn lot of synths that are out of our control. Security, Gen 1s and 2s. As well as actual scientists and people there. Not to mention we would need control of the relay to get all our people out. To get you out. You can bet once they know what’s going on they’ll try to shut it down.” He explained. Erin shrugged uncomfortably.

            “Lucky for you we have Tinker Tom, as well as the data from that holotape you gave us.” Desdemona went on, and Erin felt a tiny flicker of hope well up inside her.

            “So there was helpful information on it?” She interrupted. A brilliant smile lit Desdemona’s face and she nodded emphatically.

            “Oh yes. Not only security plans and rosters, but synth registers, with designations and generation numbers. It was the single most helpful thing we could have received. We are in your debt.” She said. Erin heard MacCready let out a quiet scoff.

            “Still, setting the operation up will take time. Tom seems to think he can assume control of the relay inside the institute, but it will take overrides on the inside. Overrides that only the Director has.” She said, and Erin’s stomach tightened into a knot. She nodded however, trying to keep her face from showing any emotion.

            “Also, setting a rebellion up will take some doing as well. There are many synths that are on our side, but still more that need convincing. We have our best people on it, but-“

            “But it will take time.” Erin finished, the hope she had felt before fading just as quickly as it had appeared. She sighed inwardly as Desdemona nodded.

            “We are working as quickly as we can. Trust me-,” She said with a glance at Owen, who had been redressed in a fairly clean set of clothes and was now eating something out of a chipped bowl, “-we all want the same thing that you do.” Erin nodded. She saw MacCready was getting more impatient with the whole scenario.

            “So I guess let us know when everything is ready then.” Erin said, turning to leave.

            “We will. The moment everything is set we will find you. And you’re welcome here any time you need safe haven.” Desdemona finished. Erin nodded at her, and then to Deacon. Erin and MacCready then turned and made their exit, back into the chilly air of the wastes.

 

            “This is ridiculous!” MacCready exclaimed as they walked out of the door to the church. He had held his tongue this far, though Erin could tell he had been ready to explode since they left the crypt.

            “We go out on a rescue mission, almost get fried by synths, and drag their charge back to them, all for them to tell us “It will take time.”?” He went on, gesturing wildly towards the church. Erin would have found this funny, if she didn’t share almost the same sentiment that he did. She was a little more pragmatic about it however, and put up a hand to calm him.

            “At least they’re doing something. We’re getting there.” She said to the man. He turned to face her and opened his mouth as if to continue his rant, but then closed it again. His face softened as he looked at her. Erin’s heart skipped a beat, and she pulled her eyes from his to a spot on the horizon.

            “Well, I guess we can head to Goodneighbor and figure out what to do from there.” He said, resigned. Erin agreed and the two headed west.

 

 

            The trip to Goodneighbor was quick, only a couple blocks over from the church. MacCready pushed in the wooden door to the town and held it for Erin, letting it fall as she came through. It was late afternoon, the sun beginning to set and the courtyard at the entrance was buzzing with activity. Beggars and chem addicts stood to the side, calling for aid or caps. A couple ghouls in suits with machine guns stood by the door to the State House. The rest of the people milling about were drifters or traders, coming in and out of the two shops in front of them.

            As the two advanced to the store under the sign “Daisy’s Discounts”, they were approached by two large men in combat armor who had been leaning against the brick wall of the shops under the signs that said "Guns Guns Guns". Erin felt MacCready stiffen next to her.

            “Look who it is! Robert Joseph MacCready!” One of them said quite loudly. They were standing very close now. Closer than Erin liked, and boxed her out, forming a barrier between her and MacCready. She saw the sniper’s fingers twitch against his leg.

            “Winlock. Barnes.” He said lightly, though she could hear the distaste weaving in and out of his voice as he spoke the names. Erin noticed they both had the Gunner insignia painted crudely on their chest pieces. She tensed slightly.

            “Thought we told you not to come around here when you ran away.” The taller of the two men said, not disguising the edge in his voice. Erin had been so far ignored, and she used this opportunity to maneuver her weapon into a location more easily reached. She continued to watch the situation unfold, eyes glancing around the courtyard. They had been given a wide berth. Even the guards of the State House had moved back, focusing on each other and not the drama before them. People were watching, but she could tell that was all they were likely to do.

            “Yeah well, it’s a free country Barnes. You don’t own Goodneighbor, or Boston. And I didn’t run away, I left when you became nothing better than a bunch of well-organized Raiders.” The merc said, putting ice into his voice. He was at least a head shorter than both the men, but he stood his ground. One of the Gunners, Winlock, she thought, clapped his hand onto Barnes’s shoulder in mock laughter before turning, his reddened face serious, back to MacCready.

            “You see though, we’ve heard that you picked up a job around here. And when you quit, what did we tell you? That you wouldn’t work in this city again.” He answered himself, his voice becoming snakelike. The men closed the already small distance between them and the sniper.

            “We wanna know what the job is. And who hired you.” Winlock said, hand darting out and grabbing MacCready by the collar. The snipers hands scrabbled for his pistols, finding nothing. Erin, still ignored, took this moment to swing up her shotgun, and calmly cocked it and thrust it under Barnes’s chin. The effect of this was immediate.

            “I did. And I don’t think you’ll have a problem with it anymore if you don’t want me to paint the sidewalk with your brains, small of a painting as it would be.” She said, seeing the barb fly over both their heads. The two men looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. Winlock dropped his hands from MacCready, who was staring in awe at Erin. Barnes was very still, hands coming up in a gesture of surrender. She could see the pulse beating in his neck where her barrel pressed.

            “I’d really like it if you left now.” She said, very quietly putting as much malice into her voice as she could. Barnes’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he nodded, eyes darting to Winlock who nodded as well.

            “Alright fine. But this ain’t the end, MacCready. For you or your little bitch.” Winlock said, spitting on the ground in Erin’s direction. She had half a mind to shoot them now, but instead took the barrel of her gun out of the hollow of Barnes’s chin and pointed it at Winlock, gesturing the two to leave. They did, slamming the wooden door of the entrance with their exit. It was only then that Erin lowered her shotgun.

            “Holy shi- Just, wow.” MacCready breathed, watching after them then looking to Erin. She released the round she had chambered and swung the shotgun back onto her shoulder. She glanced quickly around and saw the courtyard had continued its daily routine.

            “Friends of yours?” She asked sarcastically, and MacCready forced a laugh.

            “Yeah, can’t you tell? Small of a painting- You’re amazing, you know that?” He said, smiling down at her. She let the trace of a smile come to her lips as the adrenaline faded from her limbs. They looked at each other for a long moment before she tore her gaze away; looking to the store they had been heading for.

            “I don’t much care for bullies.” She said before pointing across the way.

            “Wanna pick up some supplies and find somewhere to sleep?” She asked him.

            “Yeah, sounds good. Today has been too long of a day.” He replied, and she could hear the weariness in his voice.

 

            In short order they had replenished their ammo stock, picking up a few grenades and a bottlecap mine, making Erin shiver at the memory of the one she had set off in the Commons. She could still hear the small metal tinkling as it fell after being projected violently from the small Vault-Tec lunchbox.

            They picked up a bit of food as well, and Erin grabbed a couple stimpaks. Daisy gave them a decent price, impressed by the show they had put on upon entering Goodneighbor. “Put those dicks in their place, huh?” She had remarked in a gravelly voice.

            They strolled down the dimly lit streets to the Hotel Rexford, taking in the sounds of coming evening. MacCready ran up the steps and held the door for Erin, bowing theatrically, making her laugh.

            “Do you have any rooms available?” MacCready asked the woman at the desk in front of them as they walked up. She looked down to a ledger and nodded.

            “One available for tonight. 15 caps.” She said to him expectantly. He shifted uncomfortably.

            “Is that okay with you?” He asked Erin shyly. She fought to contain a blush, but waved her hand dismissively.

            “We’ve been sleeping within 5 feet of each other for the past month, I think it’s okay.” She said, trying to be flippant about it, but knowing that on some level, this was different. MacCready threw the caps down on the desk and the woman handed them a set of keys and pointed up the hallway. They followed her gesture and found their room, entering and flipping on the dim light.

            There was one king sized bed in the middle of the room, with a small stained looking couch in the corner. There was a bathroom with a tub, and Erin suddenly forgot everything at the thought of being able to get a bath, hot or not. She dropped her stuff on the ground and fell onto the bed, the springs creaking under her weight. Despite its age and the odd smell coming from it, it felt like a cloud.

            “I’ll take the couch.” He said, placing his stuff there and sitting, promptly standing back up as it sagged under him, a snapping noise coming from the dilapidated piece.

            “Floor is good too.” He said quickly. She thought about offering him the bed with her, but knew he would never take it. Instead she handed him one of the pillows.

            “Mind if I take a bath?” She asked, eyeing the tub with what she knew was a visible hunger. He laughed.

  
            “Sure, just don’t take all the hot water. I call next.” He said, stripping off his jacket and boots, recoiling from the smell that came from his disgusting socks.

            “I think it may be time for a new pair.” He said after Erin as she sidled into the bathroom, pinching her nostrils as she passed him.

            She shut the door of the bathroom behind her, letting the dim lantern light wash over her. She turned the tap and after a slight gurgle watched as clear water splashed into the basin below. She turned the knob marked “H”, not expecting anything, but almost moaned in delight when the water began to warm on her hand. She set the temperature and began the tub filling. To her pleasure she found that a bar of rough soap lay on the small table with the lantern. It was more than she had hoped for.

            She stripped quickly, taking her underwear, undershirt, and socks off and hanging them over the edge of the tub. The other articles she folded and placed aside. As the water rose to a few inches below the top of the tub, she turned the tap off and eased herself in, closing her eyes as she felt the warmth surround her. She immediately began lathering the soap all over her body, scrubbing away weeks of sweat and grime.

            She grimaced as the water around her began to turn a greyish color, but continued her ministrations. She ducked her head under the water, feeling the strands of her hair float around her as the sounds of the world were blocked out. She came back up and lathered the soap up, running suds through her locks. When her body had been cleansed, she worked on the articles of clothes that she had hung on the edge of the tub, scrubbing voraciously at sweat and other stains that marked them. She wrung them out and hung them on the tub again, before sitting back, ignoring the grimy water.

            She closed her eyes as the steam still rose up around her, letting her arms float in the water. Her mind drifted to the man outside in the room. She brought the thoughts that had been haunting her to the forefront of her mind, focusing on them alone now.

            What were her feelings for him? Were the intense emotions she felt for him simply because of their close quarters? Simply because he was always around? She thought back to their embrace at University Point and shivered. That had seemed like more than just a friendly “I’m glad you’re okay” hug. But maybe she had made it more in her mind because it had been so long since she had been held. And how did MacCready feel about it? He was the one that had initiated it in the first place, but also had been the one to break it. Had he realized what he was doing and stopped for her sake, or his? Her thoughts turned to his wife, and how he had spoken her name, with such care. He obviously still loved her; was Erin intruding on that? Was she reading his signals wrong?

            Her brain was in overdrive at these thoughts when a soft knock startled her back to reality. MacCready’s voice met her ears through the wooden door.

            “Hey you didn’t fall asleep did you? I’m stinkin the place up out here!” He said, causing her to smile.

            “Oh, one minute!” She said, pulling the plug on the drain and feeling the tepid water start rushing out. She pulled on one of the threadbare towels and stepped out of the tub, rubbing at her hair to dry it before moving down her body. When she was sufficiently dry, she stepped into her jeans, forgoing her wet underwear for the time being, and pulled her blue baseball shirt on over her head. She gathered up the rest of her clothes, bringing the wet stuff with her to dry on the window sill. She opened the door and almost walked straight into MacCready.

            “Oh, sorry.” He said, sidestepping to let her by. She could feel him watching her.

            “It’s all yours. Oh, and the water is hot. And there is soap.” She said, and saw his face light up. He stepped into the bathroom without another word and closed the door behind him. Erin sat on the bed, one leg underneath her. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and combed it with her fingers before braiding it hastily and tying the end with some string she kept in her bag.

            She lay back on the pillow, thoughts racing again. She could hear the tub filling and the man undressing. She felt the pulling in her chest again. The same pulling that she had felt since meeting the man in the Third Rail a month ago. She thought about how far they had come, what they had accomplished together. She wanted to believe that if he didn’t want to be with her, he would have left a long time ago, probably right after the behemoth. He was a mercenary though, she thought, and wouldn’t he stick around if there were a chance of caps and fame? She shook that thought from her head; if that was only what he wanted he could have stayed with the Gunners.

            She chewed her lip, lost in thought for a long time. She was brought back by the bathroom door opening. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt a flush rise to her face.

            MacCready came out in just his military green pants. He had the towel around his head, drying his hair and couldn’t see her looking at him. His arms were toned, like the rest of him and she remembered how he had felt with his body pressed against her, like steel. He was leanly muscular, and she saw a light trail of hair that started at his chest and disappeared underneath the band of his pants. He finished drying his hair and tossed the towel on the floor. A flash of Nate jolted through her at this gesture, but she pushed him from her mind. He followed her lead, placing a couple newly washed articles of clothing on the window sill next to hers. She tore her eyes away from his powerfully built back as he turned to face her, his hands smoothing his hair into place.

            “That was heaven.” He said, spreading his jacket out on the thin carpet and laying down on it, his arms folded behind his head on the pillow. Erin squirmed to the side of the bed and peeked down at him. His eyes were closed, but when he heard her one popped open and surveyed her.

            “Gonna hit the hay?” She asked, and as if in answer a huge yawn overtook his face. He nodded unnecessarily.

            “Been a long one. It will be nice to get to sleep in.” He said and she could hear the weariness in his voice.

            “Yeah,” She said, turning over on the bed and getting under the sketchy looking covers.

             “MacCready?” Erin asked, a sudden thought striking her.

            “Yeah?”

            “Is your middle name really Joseph?” She asked, stifling a giggle. She heard the man grunt from beside her.

             “Goodnight Erin.” Came his voice from the darkness.

            “Goodnight Mac.” She said, turning the light by the side of the bed off. Her eyes were closed for just a minute before she drifted off to sleep.

 

 

             His hands were rough in her hair, grasping and pulling. She could feel his gasps on her neck as he trailed light kisses and suckles down to her nape. Her breath escaped in short pants and she ground her hips into his. He nipped at her jawline and his hands wandered to her chest, fondling her over her shirt. She writhed against him, feeling his weight on top of her, feeling his heat against her body. Her hands ran over his arms and down the lines of his collarbones. One of his calloused hands made its way underneath her shirt, the rough skin cupping her breast and he let a thumb glide over the sensitive nipple. She squeaked at this sudden intrusion. Encouraged, he pulled her shirt up and exposed her to the cool air, before taking her other breast in his mouth.

            “Oh Mac.” She breathed. His other hand traced light circles down her stomach before pulling at the waist of her pants. She felt them dip roughly below and arched her back. She thought she was going to go crazy.

            “Erin. My Erin.” Came Nate’s voice from the man at her chest. Her heart almost stopped.

            She woke with a start, gasping loudly and soaked in sweat. She looked quickly to the sleeping form on the floor, but he continued his light snoring. She flung herself back on the bed, breathing heavily with images of her dream still flashing in her head.

            She thought suddenly that she wasn’t confused anymore.


	8. Sanctuary Hills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter has some slight non-con elements to it. Nothing too graphic, but I felt I should warn you! I've updated the tags.

 

            The next few weeks passed relatively quickly, and saw them make the journey back to Sanctuary Hills. She had told MacCready about the minute men and about how she sometimes aided them with settlements that needed help and he had suggested heading back to see Preston Garvey, one of the last surviving minutemen, to see if he could use their help.

            There hadn’t been any news from the Railroad in the intervening time, and Erin was getting antsy, so this suggestion came welcome to her. It had taken them a couple days to reach the settlement, as they skirted around Cambridge instead of going through it. They crossed over the bridge to the development as the sky was streaked pink with the setting sun. A pang of familiarity tugged at Erin as they passed the sign that read “Sanctuary Hills”, but she kept her face unreadable. There was a sudden blur from the corner of her eye and she was knocked from her feet by a ball of brown and black fur. She felt a smooth tongue licking her face and buried her hands in the dog’s fur, half petting half trying to remove the animal.

            “Get off Dogmeat! I get it, you missed me!” Erin cried, finally able to subdue the wriggling dog under an arm, scratching at any part of him that would sit still long enough. Dogmeat’s tail wagged so hard she could hear the air cutting around it. She laughed out loud at his excitement. The dog finally disentangled himself from her, turning to sniff out the mercenary beside her, who held his knuckles out for the wildly moving dog to sniff.

             Dogmeat, deciding he wasn’t a threat, turned his attention back to Erin, who had made her way back to her feet. He heeled to her, walking in step with her until they met Preston, sitting by a fire outside a yellow house with a workshop in the carport.

            “General! Good to see you!” He exclaimed hugging her briefly. She introduced him to MacCready and watched the two shake hands. Dogmeat made his way to his house a ways into the grass by the fire and picked up a bone, bringing it up to Erin and plopping down by her feet, chewing with vigorous excitement.

            “Been keeping our girl safe?” Preston asked, humor lacing his voice. MacCready looked down at Erin and smiled.

            “More like she’s been keeping me safe.” He said, causing Preston to chuckle.

            “Yeah, she’s tough as nails, this one! Would make a deathclaw turn tail and run.” He said, causing Erin to blush. She cleared her throat.

            “You guys talk about me like I’m not here. It’s not nice!” She chided. The two men shared a laugh at her and she felt the pink on her cheeks go to red.

            “And to think I came here to help you!” She said, mock indignation in her voice. Preston stopped laughing and eyed her.

            “Well you know me, General; I’ve always got a settlement that could use help.” He said, the smile fading from his face. Dogmeat made a crunching noise from the ground, and sighed deeply.

            “I knew you would. Where is it this time?” She asked pulling her arm up to examine the Pip-boy map.

            “There’s somebody bothering Sunshine Tidings. It’s not too far south from here. They think it’s raiders, but they can’t be too sure. Think you can check it out?” Preston asked, letting his teeth flash in a smile at Erin. She nodded.

            “Sure. We’ll head out there tomorrow.” She said, getting her silent assent from MacCready as usual.

            “Excellent. Well why don’t you sit a spell and have a nice meal then. One of the settlers here got some decent Radstag today and we’re gonna make stew.” He said, and the two went to join the others by the fire, Dogmeat tagging along happily.

 

 

            Sunshine Tidings had been some kind of commune before the war, but now was a thriving settlement thanks to earlier efforts by Erin. It was several cabins set up in a circle surrounding a kind of barn, making it easily defensible. They had barely passed by the first cabin when a bedraggled looking woman approached them. Her face was streaked with tracks from tears she had been recently crying.

            “Are you with the minutemen?” She asked, a note of crazed seriousness lacing it. Erin nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the woman.

            “They took one of our girls. Just a few hours ago. You have to get her back!” She said, desperation mingling in her voice. Erin tried to assume a calming tone.

            “Who took her?” She asked, trying to prevent the woman from going into hysterics. She looked to MacCready who was using his binoculars to survey the horizon.

            “I don’t know. Gunners, or maybe Raiders, I can never tell. They went south. They want more caps than we have! Please get her back, she’s only 13!” The woman cried.

            “We’ll get her. We will.” Came the snipers voice from behind her. His manner even calmed Erin down, it was so reassuring. Turning, he started off at a jog, not waiting for Erin to catch up. She hurried, casting a glance to the woman behind them, who had fallen to the ground in a heap.

            “Do you know where you’re going?” Erin called ahead, trying to catch up to the man. He slowed a touch, letting her come up beside him before speeding up again.

            “This has the Gunners all over it. They have an outpost a ways south, an old overpass that they turned into a fortress. We need to catch them before they get her there.” He explained seriously. Erin’s heart fell into her stomach and she picked the pace up. They moved quickly for a couple hours, into twilight. The sky faded from light lavender to the deep purple of night, with only a faint remainder of the sun lighting the western sky.

             They finally caught up with them outside Fort Hagan, the dismal place where she had killed the man that had kidnapped Shaun and murdered her husband. MacCready gazed through his scope, scanning the camp that lay a couple hundred yards away.

            “It’s Gunners alright. And a lot of them.” He said, taking his eye off the scope momentarily, before looking through it once more. Erin tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder.

            “Is the girl with them?” She asked quietly, and saw MacCready nod. Erin formulated a plan in her mind quickly. It would take both of them, being as stealthy as possible, but it could be done, she thought. She reached in her bag and pulled out the bottlecap mine.

            “Take this. Go about 200 yards from the camp, plant it, and alert them. Hopefully most of them will come running, but take cover somewhere out of sight before they get there. I’ll go into camp when they’re distracted and get the girl. They shouldn’t leave any more than 1 or 2 with her, and I can take them out easy enough.” She explained frantically, thrusting the box into the snipers hands.

            “No, let me get the girl, I can-,” Erin cut him off.

            “No, you’re stealthier, plus you can pick them off if any escape the bomb.” She said.

            “I’m not stealthier…” He said, but still took the bomb and placed it in his bag. He met her eyes then.

            “Be careful Erin.” He said, using her name and causing a shiver to run up her spine. She squeezed his hand.

            “No buildings to jump off of here.” She said with a forced smile, and motioned for him to go. She watched him fade into the darkness before moving forward herself, keeping low.

             She got close enough to the camp that she could hear the voices of the men rising over the light night breeze. She held her breath and waited. One minute passed, then two. She began to worry, thinking something must have happened, when she heard gunshots off to the right of the camp. The Gunners heard them too, and according to plan, they got up and ran to go investigate. They left only one man behind with the girl, who was sitting bound by the fire. The last Gunner’s back was to her. Perfect, she thought.

            Silently she pulled her serrated combat knife from her boot. She was close now. She could hear his breathing. She lunged up, grabbing his hair and forced the knife into his throat, feeling the ripping sensation of flesh and veins under her hands. Any noise he might have made was strangled by the sudden gush of blood, which ran hot over her hand. She let the man fall by her feet and stood, approaching the girl trying to look as non-threatening as possible, which was difficult when one was covered in blood.

            “It’s okay, I’m here to help.” She said, and began sawing at the girls bonds, getting her legs free first, and then moving to her arms, before removing her gag. Just then there was a huge explosion off to the right, and the screams of men as their limbs were blown to bits. She fought back a smile. Suddenly Erin heard a snapping behind her, and a deep male voice.

            “Take this.” She said, shoving the knife into the girls hands, watching her green eyes grow to the size of dinner plates.

            “Run that way. Now!” She said, pointing the way they came. The girl scrambled up but did as she was told. The voices were close now, and she felt a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized she recognized them.

             She had just pulled her shotgun around when something crashed into the back of her head, knocking her flat and making stars dance in front of her vision. She heard a laugh and felt her gun get wrenched from her grasp.

  
                “Holy shit! It’s MacCready’s bitch!” Winlock said, grabbing her ponytail and pulling roughly, bringing her to her knees. She felt the warmth of her blood trickling down her neck and into the collar of her leather jacket.

             “Would you look at that?” Barnes said, a dangerous edge to his voice. Erin could hear shots from the right, and knew that some of the other gunners were still alive, and being contended with by MacCready.

              “So is that our RJ over there?” Winlock said, gesturing to the noises outside the camp. Erin pulled against him, but he yanked her back.

              “Let me go you fucks.” She growled, feeling the hand in her hair tighten.

              “Mouthy little cunt you are! RJ doesn’t swear y’know. Looks like you make it up for the both of you.” He laughed as she pulled once more in his grasp.

              “He’ll kill the rest of your friends. Then he’ll be on the way. Just let me go.” She said, half hating herself for trying to bargain with them, but the look on Barnes’s face was making her stomach knot. Winlock considered this for a moment, before pulling her head back violently.

              “Guess we better work quickly then.” He whispered in her ear, and then gestured to Barnes, who produced a knife from his belt. It was a large one, and he pressed it against her neck. She felt the blade’s cold edge in the same spot she had just placed hers against the Gunner on the ground behind her. She stared into Barnes eyes, defiant. He grinned and removed the knife from her neck, bringing it down to his side.

             “Do you think he’s watching? Do you think he’ll take the shot knowing that if he does, you die?” He asked her, and suddenly she was aware of a gun barrel in her temple. She pulled fruitlessly in Winlock’s grasp.

             Barnes held the knife in front of her face, showing the metal gleaming in the dull light of the campfire. He moved it downwards, dragging it over her leather jacket, circling her chest and letting it fall between her legs. She tried to shy backwards, but Winlock shoved her forward. Barnes sliced through the strap of her bag, letting it fall heavily to the ground before shoving the knife into the gap between her and her jacket, cleanly slicing a slit down the front of it. She felt cool air rush against her. He did the same to her shirt, leaving only her undershirt between her and the knife Barnes held.

            “Not bad MacCready!” Winlock shouted into the night. Barnes was drawing the blunt edge of his knife around the mounds of her breast beneath her light undershirt, sending shivers through her. Erin pulled frantically against the man behind her, struggling to get away, struggling to cover herself. The men laughed at her attempts.

            “Come on baby, I’m sure the sniper ain’t that great a fuck. Let us show you how it should be!” Winlock said in her ear. Erin flung her head back, feeling a satisfying crack against her bruised skull. The man behind her swore loudly and cocked the gun. He pulled her arm back so far that she had to get up on tip toe to prevent it from popping out of its socket.

            “Look we ain’t against fucking a corpse, so don’t fucking do that again!” Winlock said, voice coming to a crescendo at his last words. Erin was suddenly aware of the quiet off to the side of the camp. No more gunshots.

            She jerked wildly as Barnes forced the remains of her jacket off and felt his hands cup her chest, trying to get him off but he just gripped tighter. She fought back tears that threatened to spill over. Abruptly she saw a glint in the distance, something catching the dim moonlight. A voice came through over the fear in her head.

            “I _f you’re in danger, or trapped, or anything and I have the ability to be there, I will. Just stand still and I’ll be there._ ” MacCready’s words echoed through her mind. She willed herself, heart pounding to be still. She stood stock still and Barnes laughed, mistaking her motionlessness for surrender. It would be the last mistake he made.

            There was a gurgling noise by her ear and she felt hot blood and tissue smack her in the back of her head. The gun at her temple fell away but she stayed still, even as she saw realization dawn in Barnes’s eyes. Even as she saw his knife pull up and begin the deadly arc downward. She was completely still as his head exploded in front of her, eyes rolling up until they were almost completely white, brain matter flying in all directions . She was still until MacCready was in front of her, pulling his tattered jacket on over her shoulders, blocking the chilly air from her almost bare front.

            “Erin. Erin are you okay?” His voice was saying. He was using something to wipe the viscera off her face, what she didn’t know. She nodded slowly, pulling the jacket tighter around her.

            “My head is bleeding.” She said, moving to touch the growing lump on her scalp. MacCready caught her hand and held it.

            “It’s okay, I got it.” He said as he moved behind her. She felt him brush bits of brain and skull off her shoulder and pressed something to her head causing her to wince.

            The pain in her head brought her back to reality and she began to shake violently. The sniper, with his hand still on her head moved around to the front of her again and peered into her eyes.

            “The girl? Where is she? Did she get away?” Erin asked through chattering teeth. MacCready looked from her to the black wastes around them.

            “I think so. I watched her running right before I saw… Right before I saw they had you.” He said quietly, eyes moving to the bodies that lay beneath their feet.

            Hearing this answer, and knowing that the last piece of responsibility she had was safe, Erin’s legs gave out, and she clutched at the man in front of her, who in one fluid motion picked her up and carried her to the other side of the camp, away from the corpses of the two Gunners. He sat with her situated in his lap. He held her, whispering soothing words into her ears as sobs wracked her body. Her arms grasped at his neck and she buried her face in him, drinking in his scent again and feeling his body against hers. They sat like this for a long while, before Erin heard MacCready whispering something, almost inaudibly.

            “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was saying. She grasped him tighter, and his arms squeezed her in response. Adrenaline and shock now wearing off, Erin felt the dull throb in her head, and the swimming feeling one gets from losing a decent amount of blood. Her sobs had subsided and reluctantly she extricated herself from the merc.

            “I need a stimpak I think.” She said, her words were slurred and slow. He nodded and shifted her weight on his lap so he could reach his bag. He pulled out the syringe and she put her arm out, rolling up the long sleeves on MacCready’s coat. He poised the needle above her arm and looked at her.

            “Ready?” He asked quietly. She nodded and he plunged the stimpak into her arm. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes as she heard the pneumatic hiss and felt the fluid pulse into her body. It was almost instantaneous, the relief she felt.

            MacCready discarded the empty syringe on the ground and rubbed a hand over the spot on Erin’s arm. She breathed deeply and made a move to stand. MacCready pulled at her arm and kept her on his lap.

            “Give it a minute. Don’t get up too fast.” He urged. She let a small smile come to her lips. Her hand went to MacCready’s face in a caress that was beyond her control. His face was hot beneath her hand and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Then she pulled her hand back, suddenly aware of what she was doing. His eyes opened again, holding a look she couldn’t describe.

            “Do you think you can walk?” He asked quietly. She nodded and moved to stand. His hand held hers as they stood together, and it lingered as he made sure she was steady.

  
                “Let’s head back then.” He suggested, and went to grab her gun and bag that were still by the bodies on the other side of the camp. He tied the strap that had been cut and slung it over his neck, ignoring her protests that she could carry it herself. Side by side they walked into the night, not saying anything, both knowing that no words were needed.


	9. Axes to Grind

            They had been back in Sanctuary two days, and MacCready had been avoiding her. They had made sure the young girl had made it back to the settlement, and headed back to Sanctuary, not stopping until they were safe behind the turrets. He had made sure she was in bed and taken care of and then he left. She hadn’t been able to find him in the morning, but Preston had told her he was down the road at the Red Rocket station. She had seen him come back periodically, but he made a point to avoid her, barely responding the few times he had come close enough for her to speak to him.

            Erin was confused about his change in behavior. The night outside Sunshine Tidings had been traumatic for both of them, this she knew, but she was beginning to wonder if the small bit of intimacy she had shown him, her tight embrace and the caress of his cheek, had gone too far.

             She was still unsure about his feelings towards her, although she had pretty much managed to work out her own. He hadn’t left Sanctuary though, which made her wonder what his motives were. She thought that maybe he didn’t even know what he felt for her.

            “Have you seen MacCready?” Erin asked the old woman that went by Mama Murphy that evening. The woman’s wrinkled face looked up at her from her place by the fire. She smiled toothlessly at her.

            “I think he’s down at the old gas station again, thinking. Thinking about you.” The woman said cryptically. Erin’s look must have conveyed her question, because the old woman spoke again.

            “You don’t need the sight to know there’s something between you two. You should have seen his face the first night you two were back, after he made sure you were alright. There’s something there kid, I know it.” The woman said. Mama Murphy’s voice was spaced out from her previous use of too many chems, but she was still lucid enough for Erin to heed her words.

            “Thanks.” She said and waved goodbye to the woman. Two days was enough time away from the merc. She needed to know what was going on, or she might drive herself crazy wondering.

 

            The Red Rocket station was right over the bridge out of town, and in the dimming light she could see a yellow glimmer coming from the garage on the side of the building. She approached quietly, and saw the merc sitting on a mattress he had pulled into the structure. He was holding his hat in his hands, staring at it. As she got closer, he looked up, watching her approach. He adjusted the hat back on his head, causing a glint of the bullet, no, bullets, she could see there were two there now, in the band that encircled it. She stopped at the entrance to the garage and leaned against the doorway, watching him. He gazed from her to the floor, and she felt her heart sink to her stomach.

            “You don’t have to stick around. You’re free to go. I won’t even ask for my caps back.” She said, trying to inject a bit of humor into her voice. It didn’t work. The man looked at her, a piercing gaze that fixed on her into her soul. She didn’t break it. She couldn’t.  Eventually he shook his head.

            “I can’t do it. I just can’t.” He said, voice so low she had to step into the garage to hear him. She nodded, feeling tears prickle in her eyes.

            “I can’t watch you almost die, get thrown into danger for something that I don’t understand.” He continued. She could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest. He stood up and began pacing slowly.

            “I know they took your son. And believe me; I understand what that can feel like. But they’ve taken so many people. Why does this quest fall to you alone? Why is blowing up the Institute so important that you would put yourself in so much danger? I mean, the Glowing Sea alone is insane!” He said, his steps becoming faster as his words fell out, each one feeling like a punch to the gut.

            “I have been with you for almost 2 months now. I haven’t asked any questions, even though I’ve had plenty to ask, because I know that some secrets are needed. But I can’t watch this anymore. How I feel it’s-,” He stopped himself, changing the direction of the conversation, “I can’t keep watching you come close to death if I don’t know why. I just can’t. The Institute isn’t your responsibility, Erin.” He said with finality, and sat down on the bed hard, causing the springs to groan under him.

             Erin’s voice caught in her throat. She looked at the sniper, sitting there, so obviously distressed and she knew the time had come. She had to tell him, or risk losing him forever. Although, once she told him everything, he may still leave, but he would definitely leave if she didn’t. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked against them. She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans and cleared her throat.

             “I was born in the year 2052.” She said, the words tumbling out unhindered. It seemed like the best place to start. The merc’s eyes darted to hers, his face holding a look of curiosity, as well as suspicion.

             “Yeah. Not 2252. 2052. Twenty five years before the Great War. Twenty five years before October 23rd, 2077.” She said, still watching his face. The same expression of mingled questioning and wariness held there, so she continued.

             “I was cryogenically frozen in Vault 111 for about 210 years. That makes me about 236 years old, if you’re counting.” She said, forcing a smile onto her lips. It faded almost as soon as it appeared.

             “My… husband and son were among the others to be frozen. They were in the pod across from me. Something happened, and I was partially unfrozen, just enough to see the Institute’s lapdog Kellogg murder my husband and kidnap my son. He was six weeks old.” Her voice broke at this, and the tears began their silent trek down her face. She didn’t try to wipe them away.

            “I was frozen again. For how long I didn’t know. When I was finally unfrozen for good, I found I was the only survivor from that vault.” She said, remembering the horror as she had gone from pod to pod, only to see her friends and neighbors dead in suspended animation. Feeling the wave of terror wash over her again as she remembered the utter loneliness, the feeling of being the only one left on Earth.

            “I found my Pip-boy there, when I escaped.” She continued, holding her arm up to MacCready, whose wariness had faded to mild awe.

            “When I left the vault… The world… it was gone…” She stumbled over the words. How could she explain it to the man who had known nothing of the world before, except what he saw in comic books and the few holotapes that portrayed it? How could she explain life, explain green? How could she explain air that didn’t always taste acrid, and water that was safe to drink? She abandoned this line of thought in favor of a different one.

            “I set out to look for Shaun. I didn’t know how long it had been. I just knew he was my son, and I needed to find him. I found Preston in Concord, and brought him to Sanctuary. It was where I lived before the war.” Everything seemed deathly silent. Not even a bug chirped around them. She drew her jacket tighter against the chill of the late fall air.

            “When I tracked him to the Institute, I thought it had only been 10 years. That he would still be my little boy.” She went on, her voice becoming a hoarse whisper. She remembered the memory den, the awful images of Kellogg living with Shaun, watching him through someone else’s eyes as he played and read comics.

            “I did all the things that you heard I did. I went to the Glowing Sea to find the escaped Institute scientist. I killed Kellogg and an Institute Courser. I built the relay to get in and out of the Institute. And when I finally got there…” She said, taking a deep breath as she remembered the shattering truth.

            “It hadn’t been 10 years since my son was kidnapped. It had been 60. He was an old man. Old enough to be my father.” She said slowly, watching the surprise become evident on the sniper’s face. She steeled herself for the next revelation. The revelation that could drive him away from her.

            “MacCready here’s the thing I haven’t told anyone. No one knows this except me. Nobody can know this, or the plan I have may not succeed. This is the reason that the Institute _is_ my responsibility.” There was a pleading note in her voice now, mingled with the despair that overwhelmed her when she thought about her son.

            “He’s the director, MacCready. My son runs the entire Institute. He is the one authorizing the kidnappings and replacements. He is the one building synths so real that they feel they have to escape from him. Hell, they’re made from bits of his DNA. And above all that, he wants me to take it over when he is gone. He wants me to become the leader of the Institute. Wants me to continue the “work” he has been doing.” She said, her voice growing louder in the small room. She stifled a sob and clapped a hand to her face, feeling the wetness under her fingers. MacCready stared at her.

            “So you see, I have to blow it up. I have to. I caused this. My son is the one causing all the people in the Commonwealth to live in constant fear of the boogeyman. My son is the one causing people to live in terror every day!” She finished, before letting the emotion take her. She sobbed for a moment, and then tried to compose herself. She only succeeded in giving herself the hiccups.

            “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” She said after a minute when she regained some of her poise, “I didn’t know if you would trust me after finding that out. I don’t know if anyone would trust me if they knew, and I wouldn’t blame them. I gave birth to a monster.” She said, her voice breaking at the word. She was looking at the ground, tears still falling, when she heard MacCready move. She barely had time to look up before he was in front of her.

            His hands grasped her face and he pulled her into a bruising kiss, the force of it seeming to even surprise him as he pulled back slightly. Her lips parted, welcoming him. He tasted of sweat and salt and faintly of alcohol. The kiss was hard but gentle, and it caused sparks of light to flash behind her closed eyes. She willed it to go on forever. It didn’t, however and before she knew it he pulled back from her, his hands still holding the sides of her face, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on her cheek bones. He stared into her eyes, blue meeting grey like a summer rainstorm.

            “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He finally whispered to her, a twitch of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Erin let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

            “Me too.” She said, her hands coming up to cover his. She let a grin flood her face, feeling almost manic with emotions. MacCready wiped the tears from her face.

            “And I do trust you. I told you I wouldn’t leave you.” He said. Erin nodded.

            “Yes but this is… big. And I was scared. I was scared if I told you I would have to do it alone. And I didn’t know if I could do that.” She said very quietly. MacCready responded by pressing his lips to hers again. It was shorter this time, but just as perfect. They looked at each other for a long moment, hands clasped tightly together. Then a sound came from behind them and she whirled around. The merc brought his gun up clumsily beside her.

             Preston came out of the darkness, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. MacCready lowered his gun and Erin relaxed.

            “Sorry General, but there’s someone that just came into Sanctuary. They say they’re with the Railroad to see you.” He said shortly. Erin’s heart began hammering again and she turned to MacCready, who was already gathering his things up in his arms.

            “Let’s go blow up the Institute.” He said, grasping Erin’s hand in his and walking in step beside her towards the dim lights of the settlement.


	10. Mad About the Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you've all been waiting for!

             As they came around the corner to the main drag of the settlement, Erin could see a small group of people crowded around the yellow house where the workbench sat. She recognized Mama Murphy among them, and saw the grim expression on her face. A shiver ran up her spine.

            “Here they are.” Preston said to the group as they came closer. The gaggle of people milled about and turned to them, allowing Erin to see a disheveled looking Deacon, his wig gone, sitting on the curb next to a woman she didn’t recognize. At seeing her, Deacon tried to flash a smile, but only succeeded in grimacing a bit.

            “Hey guys, long time no see.” He said gravely. Erin felt her pulse quicken.

            “What happened?” She asked the man, glancing only briefly at his companion to see that she was in fairly the same state that he was in.

            “Long story short, the Brotherhood of Steel.” Deacon said, eliciting a small murmur of excitement from the small crowd.

            Erin had not had much contact with the Brotherhood past helping a few of the members when she came across them, bogged down in an abandoned police station. They had offered her the chance to join their ranks, and although at first the offer had been tempting, she turned it down; telling them that she may be back when she had found what she was looking for. Over the course of her travels, however, she had begun to hear about their xenophobic ways, as well as their almost maniacal hoarding of Pre-war tech. She had met many people in the Commonwealth, ghouls and synths among them, whom she counted as friends. After listening to stories of the Brotherhood callously murdering any ghoul, feral or not, that crossed their paths, and hearing of how they treated synths with the same, if not worse, regard as the Institute, she had made a point to avoid them all together.

            “What did they do?” MacCready’s voice came from behind her. She hadn’t expected him to participate in the conversation much, as she knew he had a certain distaste for Deacon, but when she looked at him, he seemed genuinely concerned.

            “They found us and attacked us. Under the church.” Deacon said. Erin’s eyes widened.

            “What? Is everyone okay? What happened?” She urged, crouching next to the man on the pavement, gazing into the sunglasses that he still wore, even in the dark of the night.

            “Most everyone is. We managed to stave off most of them. The ones we didn’t escaped. We only lost two, but one of those was our best agent. They killed Glory.” Deacon said, his voice quieting as he spoke. Erin rubbed a hand across her face in disbelief.

            “They’ve known we are trying to help the synths. We knew that. But we didn’t think it would come to this. They must have gotten some information about the holotape you gave us. That’s all we can figure as to why they would risk an attack like that. The Institute is a wealth of technology that they would love to harness.” He continued, not trying to hide the sour note in his voice at this last sentence.

            “Desdemona? And Owen? Are they okay? Why did you come here?” Erin asked the man. At this, a smile really did come to his face.

            “It would take Elder Maxson himself to kill Des. And even then I wouldn’t put money on it. And Owen is okay too. They’ve all moved to a new safe house for now.” He said, shifting on the concrete curb beneath him.

            “As for why I’m here, that would be because we need your help again. Before we can assault the Institute.”

            “And how can we help?” Erin asked, suddenly becoming mildly suspicious.

            “I know this is a lot to ask. But everything is set up already; all you need to do is get in and out quickly. Then we can get to the big boom.” He said, and Erin gave him a look that told him to hurry along.

            “We need you to get aboard their airship, the Prydwen. You know, the big ugly thing over the airport? Once aboard, we have some charges for you to plant on the structure. Then you’ll just hop into a Vertibird, piloted by a well-placed synthetic friend of ours, and ride off into the sunset as the thing turns into a fireball behind you.” He finished, looking expectantly at Erin. She stared from him, and then to MacCready, whose face was an interesting shade of purple. A shiver ran up her spine, and not from the chilled night air.

            “And if I do this, the rest of our plan is still set to go, even with the loss of the Old North Church?” Erin questioned. Deacon nodded vigorously.

            “Yep. Once it’s all ashes we can send you right into the Institute if you’d like. Everything is ready to go; the only thing is these Brotherhood bastards. We can’t risk them locating our new safe house in the middle of this vital operation. Especially when we will be handling the liberation of this many synths.”

             Erin sighed. She looked at the mercenary beside her. His face was still stony, but he nodded to her in that almost undetectable way that she had come to understand as “I go where you go.”

            “Okay. Just tell us when and where to be.” She said at last, causing a grin to break out on Deacon’s face.

            “Excellent. I knew I liked you. Everything should be ready within the next day or two. We have to get a Vertibird cleared to come out this way so that we can take you up without raising too many suspicions. I’m in contact with the people running the op, so you’ll know when I do. For now, just relax, hang out, and get a good night’s rest.” He said, lightness returning to his voice. Erin stood again, stretching her legs after being crouched for so long. She motioned to Preston and asked him to find Deacon and the woman a place to stay, before turning to MacCready.

            “I’ve got a place down the way we can sleep tonight.” She said to him. He gave her a small smile and followed her down to the cul-de-sac at the end of the road. There was a shack that Erin had built when she first started the settlement. It was well built and sturdy, with a bed and a couch, as well as some cabinets and a magazine rack. MacCready was on it right as he saw it, carefully thumbing through issues of Grognak the Barbarian she had picked up along her travels. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him.

            “I used to read these as a kid.” He said, eyes still fixed on the tattered pages. Something else caught his eye.

            “Into collecting antiques?” He said sarcastically, coming to stand by her collection of Vault-Tec bobble heads she had displayed on a counter in the corner. She laughed. He reached out and knocked the head of one of them, causing it to wobble randomly.

            “I am an antique, if you wanna get technical.” She said quietly.

            “Yeah, well you don’t look like one.” He said shyly. Erin smiled at his back.

            Then he turned to her, his expression suddenly serious.

            “We don’t have to do this for them you know.” He said. Erin’s heart fluttered at his use of the word “we”.

            “What other choice do we have, Mac?”

            “We can find some other way. What if this isn’t the end of what they want from us? This is huge. We will be destroying an entire faction from the Commonwealth. Not that I’m any fan of the Brotherhood’s, that is.” He said this as he sat on the couch opposite her. She could see the lines of his jaw in the dim lantern light. He always looked the best silhouetted against the dark, she thought. She could see the leanness of the muscle in his shoulders and back. The stubbly beard on his chin was getting long, but it suited him, bringing the edge of his jaw into sharp relief.

            “There isn’t another way. Anything else and we risk not being able to get out in time. We risk the Institute finding out about our plan. If this isn’t the last thing they want, then we will reevaluate. But right now, we have to do this.” She said. MacCready nodded slowly. It was quiet for a moment while the both of them sat deep in thought. Erin thought back to the kiss they had shared not an hour earlier. She could still feel the heat of him, the brush of his lips on hers. She shivered at the memory.

            “MacCready?” She said rapidly, almost surprising even herself. He snapped back to reality and looked at her, his features softened.

            “You said before, that you had wanted to, uh, kiss me, for a long time.” She said, picking at a loose thread on the blanket she sat on.

            “Yeah?” He answered. She swallowed.

            “How long? I mean, how long had you wanted to?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks and warm her face in the chilly night air.

            “Honestly? Since I sat down next to you in the Third Rail.” He said shyly. “I thought that might make a bad first impression though.” She smiled. MacCready’s brow was furrowed however.

  
                “What is it?” She asked, seeing his contemplation. He tried to clear his face unsuccessfully.

            “It’s nothing, just…I don’t want to…make you feel, because you know, your, um, husband and all.” He stuttered. The mention of Nate stunned her momentarily, but she regained composure.

            “I’ve mourned for Nate. I loved him, I did. But I got my vengeance. I put him and his memory to rest. He will always hold a place in my heart, just as I’m sure Lucy will for you.” She said, quieting slightly at the mention of the mercenary’s late wife. She saw him nod absently.

            “I haven’t felt this way since her.” He said softly. Erin stood, walking slowly over to him. She held out her hand, and took his as he reached for her.

            “Me either.” She said, squeezing his hand.

            With a sudden jerk he pulled her onto him, colliding their lips almost too hard as she rocked in his lap, putting a hand on the back of the couch to steady herself. His hands ran up her back and then to her hair, loosing the string that held it in the tight ponytail. The dark strands fell around her shoulders and he ran his hands through it. She could feel the roughness of them again. The kiss was long and perfect. This time she felt his tongue reach out to taste her and she returned the favor, tasting the sweat and fading alcohol taste that she had before.

            He began trailing kisses down her neck, causing shivers of pleasure to course through her. Her hands roamed his chest, dipping below his grimy jacket and shirt until she felt skin on skin. He was at the nape of her neck now, kissing gently. She pushed the hat off his head with one hand, and brought the other to run through his thick brown hair. He smelled of sweat and grime, but it was unmistakably his scent, and she loved it.

            He pulled back then, hands resting on her hips. She saw the wanting in his eyes, and felt his wanting farther below. She read his expression, need held back by one simple question “Can I have you?” No words were required. She simply nodded at him and his hands were back on her at once. He peeled the leather jacket she wore off first, discarding it on the ground next to his hat. His lips were on hers once more, and he fumbled to remove his own jacket, getting tangled in the one sleeve it still had. Eventually she pushed him out of it, and then went to start unbuttoning his shirt, hands shaking with anxiety and need.

            Both her shirt and undershirt were soon stripped off, leaving her with goosebumps at the sudden change of temperature. The man who she sat on stared at her momentarily, before tentatively running a hand up to cup each of her breasts. She gasped at the heat of him on her cool flesh. This encouraged him, and soon he was letting his rough fingers run across her skin, making her nipples rise to his touch. Erin’s eyes were closed as he worked, her breath coming in pants. She ran her hands over the muscles of his chest, following the fine hairs downward. She tugged at his belt, trying to unbuckle it at the odd angle they sat at. She could feel him straining against the fabric of his fatigue style pants.

           Their eyes met and she could see the unbridled lust in him. He stood, grasping her against him still and walked easily to the bed, letting her fall gently onto it. She sat and pulled him by the belt to her, finishing her work and letting his pants fall to the ground around his ankles. He wore no underwear.

            On impulse she took him into her mouth, bobbing her head rhythmically. He let out a strangled cry and his hands went to her hair, gently pulling as he grasped wildly with pleasure.

            “Fu- Jeez, Erin.” He gasped, and she went on, encouraged. She felt his fingers twitching against her scalp as she took him deeper into her mouth. He was making small whimpering noises and his eyes were closed in ecstasy. She continued for several minutes before he pulled back and gently pushed her back onto the bed. He made short work of her pants, tossing them in a random direction. His fingers traced lightly on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, causing heat to rise in her. She parted her legs slightly.

            “God you’re so soft.” The mercenary murmured, fingers still playing up her thighs.

            “I wasn’t raised in radiation, remember?” She asked softly and she heard the rumble of a small laugh from the man. His fingers were rising higher now, and she squirmed in anticipation. She got the impression he was doing it on purpose. He kissed her then, a connection between them, full of the need they both had, and she felt his fingers meet their mark, dipping into her with a suddenness that made her jerk. He didn’t pull back though, only increased the speed of his work, making sparks dance in her vision. She moaned breathlessly as his fingers entered her. He kissed down her neck and to her chest, taking her breast in his mouth gently. She arched against him. Her hand went over his at her core, and she pulled it away reluctantly. He pulled his face up and met her eyes.

             “I need you.” She said in a whisper, and she saw his jaw clench for a moment. He nodded to himself and pulled himself over her, pecking her lips quickly. She felt him ease against her, his hands grasping her hips hard. She thought she may explode from the eagerness alone.

            He entered her unnervingly slowly, so that she felt all of him come into her. His eyes were shut tight as he did, but when he had sheathed himself completely he opened them, surveying her. She let out a small moan, and wriggled against him, urging him to move. He obliged, and slowly began measured thrusts into her.

           “Oh, Rob…” Erin moaned, and the man above her stopped for a split second at hearing his first name. She saw him smile though as he continued before he buried his face in her neck. His arms came around her torso as he pumped, trying to keep a steady rhythm, but she could feel him every now letting his restraint falter.

            Spasms of pleasure were rocking through her at their connection. She was gripping his torso tighter and tighter with each movement, feeling the building heat within her. She ground her hips up against him. She knew she was close to the edge, and she felt he was too. She felt his arms move beneath her, snaking up her back to cradle her neck. His eyes met hers for a moment before closing again in bliss. His thrusts were becoming more frantic now, and her toes were beginning to curl and tingle.

            “Together.” She heard him breath in her ear and she moaned in response. This was enough to send him over and he buried himself in her hard once, twice, then the third time a wave crashed into her, and she felt her release, sending her spiraling in pleasure as the merc let out a choked gasp with his own climax.

            Her eyes were still clamped shut, with dancing bits of light fluttering over the inside of her eye lids when MacCready slid himself off of her. His arm stayed under her neck as he rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. Erin tried to calm her own panting, still feeling the shivers of residual pleasure radiating through her. She rolled towards him on the bed, curling herself against him. He grasped her hand and pulled it onto his chest, letting his thumb trace soothing circles on hers.

            “I like when you say my first name.” He said after a time. Erin cracked a wide smile.

            “I’ll have to do it more often then.” She teased, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing came under control. They basked in a comfortable silence for a time, before MacCready planted a kiss on the top of her head and tilted her chin up to meet her eyes.

            “You sure this is what you want?” He asked quietly. The corners of Erin’s mouth twitched slightly.

            “Yes. I’ve never been surer of anything I think… why do you ask?” MacCready shifted and brought the cover of the bed up over the two of them, blocking the chilly night air that began to seep in through the heat of their passion.

            “Well, because I know I can be kind of a pain in the ass… I mean I know I can be arrogant and come off like I want to be alone. Nothing is further from the truth though… being alone scares me. Before I met you, I thought that was my destiny. I lost Lucy, couldn’t see Duncan, heck I even left the few people in the Gunners that I gave a crap about.” He explained. Erin watched him, nodding in understanding.

            “I guess I just want you to know that I’m gonna do everything I can to see that it stays this way. I’ll follow you in whatever you decide to do.” He finished. Erin stretched up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

            “I want it to stay this way too. Me and you.” She said after parting. He pulled her closer, sharing his warmth with her. She hummed softly and closed her eyes. The night was quiet around them, no sound except for the buzzing of a distant generator. She felt the man beside her fall asleep, his breathing becoming deep and even, a small snore coming from him now and then. She smiled to herself and nuzzled against him before drifting herself into a peaceful slumber.

 


	11. Way Back Home

            The morning sun woke her as it streamed through the split boards of the roof of the shack. She stretched languidly and reached to touch the man beside her, but found the bed empty. She rolled to her stomach and looked around the room. She found him; half dressed, holding a Pre-War book in his hands. “You’re Special” adorned the front in big colorful letters. She watched him hold it, flipping the pages gently, as if the book may disintegrate in his hands. Her heart squeezed painfully at the memory.

            “That was Shaun’s. My mom bought it for him. Right after he was born.” Erin said thickly. The sniper jerked and snapped the book closed upon hearing her.

            “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-,” He started, placing the book back on the bottom of the shelf where he had picked it up. Erin smiled ruefully at him.

            “It’s alright. I found it, in the house we used to live in up the street from here. It’s the only thing of his that survived somehow. I thought I might give it to him when I got him back, but well, yeah.” She finished, not bringing herself to say the words.  MacCready stood and came to the bed, sitting on the edge. He stroked her messy hair with slender fingers.  She relaxed into the touch.

            “We’ll make it right. Or as right as it can be.” He said quietly. Erin grabbed his hand and brought it to her mouth, planting a light kiss on it.

            “I hope so.” She said softly.

 

            Morning had brought renewed vigor to Deacon and his companion, who were regaling the settlers of Sanctuary Hills with tales of the bravery and intrigue of the Railroad. Erin thought, upon hearing how Deacon had single-handedly cleared out an entire downtown block of super mutants with only a combat knife and 2 frag grenades, that these tales may be just that; tales, but the settlers were enthralled as he emphatically gestured the explosion of a super mutant brute’s head. He quickly wrapped up his story as he noticed Erin and MacCready watching him. The settlers went about their breakfasts, each one whispering about the awesome prestige of the Railroad. Deacon smiled at Erin, and even through his sunglasses she could see the wry look in his eye.

            “Sleep well?” He asked in a sing-song tone. Erin rolled her eyes at him, but nodded.

            “Just fine, thanks. So what’s the plan?” She asked, picking at a bit of meat over the campfire. She popped the morsel in her mouth, tasting the same metallic taste that seemed to coat everything in the wastes. The taste of mild radioactivity, she thought.

            “Well we got word this morning that we can have a Vertibird here in two days. Then we will fly you to the Prydwen and the rest is up to you two.” He said in a cool voice. Erin swallowed hard. Two days.

            “Then after that, we can go to the Institute? We can start the rebellion and blow it up?” MacCready asked with an edge to his voice. Deacon either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Though Erin thought it to be the latter.

            “Yep. Once that Brotherhood monstrosity is no more, and then we can go right into the main event.” He answered. Erin took a deep breath. It was in her sights now. The quest that she had been on since coming out of the Vault close to 1 year ago finally was coming to a head. She shivered involuntarily. She thought it may have gone unnoticed, but MacCready reached out reflexively and touched her arm.

            “So take the next two days to get everything together, cause once that Vertibird is here, that’s it. We have to move. There is no margin for error on this one. It’s the two of you against the entire Commonwealth Brotherhood chapter.” He said, the gravity weighing heavily in his voice. Erin nodded.

            “If it’s the only way to get to the Institute, then we will do it. No matter what.” She said. Her voice was clear and surprising, even to her. Deacon smiled reassuringly.

            “And even if you two kick off, we still have the data we need to liberate the synths from the Institute.” He said wryly. MacCready shot him a look, but Erin let out a loud laugh. The sound made the mercenary beside her jump. He looked at her, but then smiled as well. Deacon turned to the fire again, and soon resumed his wild stories, leaving Erin and MacCready to their thoughts.

            It was around the time that Deacon started telling everyone that he, not Desdemona was the real leader of the Railroad that the two decided to head off on their own. Hand in hand, Erin walked MacCready through the remains of the neighborhood she had once lived in. Quietly, she told him the names of the people that had lived in the houses around hers. She showed him the rusted out playground that she had hoped to bring Shaun to one day. They wandered down to the edge of the settlement, to where a crumbling stone wall edged up against a large creek. They stopped here, listening to the water babbling by on the stones and debris below.

            “What was it like? Before, I mean?” MacCready suddenly asked. He shot her a glance and his expression became rueful, as if he were about to say never mind and try to make her forget he asked.

            “It was… green. I never thought I would miss so much green.” She said, remembering spring air through new leaves. Remembering rolling hills and freshly planted fields.

            “There is a smell, the smell of freshly cut grass... It’s just its own smell. Comforting in a way.” She went on. MacCready watched her with rapt attention, his expression becoming one of intense interest.

            “It was nice, not to worry about where to sleep and if you were safe or not… But the old world had its own problems. The war sometimes made food scarce. I was lucky… Nate was military so we always had food on the table.” She said. MacCready’s hand grasped hers and held it, resting on the stone wall in front of them.

            “It also made people wary of each other. Neighbors would try to turn each other in for being Chinese sympathizers and the like. And then there was the constant threat of… well this.” She said, gesturing to the wasteland around her.

            “Sirens would sound and you would have to do drills, get into your basements or into bathtubs. All things that wouldn’t help if a nuclear bomb really did drop on your town. And then the Vaults started opening. That’s when we knew it was over. Nate got us a spot in 111, but sometimes I wish he hadn’t.” She said, her voice wavering at this. She could see MacCready’s eyes shimmering, and wiped at her own face as she felt tracks of tears falling down her cheeks.

            “I’m sorry I asked.” He said, and she shook her head violently.

            “No, it feels good to talk about it. To tell someone about how it used to be. I know there are Pre-War ghouls, but they’ve been conscious for 200 years, they probably remember very little about what the world was like before… It’s fresh for me. Sometimes, I see a feral ghoul wearing the remains of a shirt that I saw in a department store once, or read a name in a discarded Boston Bugle that I recognize and it makes it feel that much fresher.” She said, letting the tears fall freely now. MacCready wrapped his arms around her then, letting her bury her face in his chest. She choked back a sob, trying to regain control. She hadn’t had time yet to mourn the world for what it had been, she had constantly been working, first to survive and find Shaun, then to get into the Institute, then to blow it up. This was the first time she had let herself weep for her neighbors, for Boston, for the world.

            A few moments passed before she pulled herself back from the merc. She smiled at him, seeing his concerned look.

            “I’m okay. It’s okay. It’s just…overwhelming sometimes.” She said. He nodded, and then bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He was warm and strong and so close to her. They stayed like that for a long while, quietly being with each other.

             When at last they parted, the sun glinted off the two bullets in the band of MacCready’s hat, reminding Erin of a question she had thought of in the garage the night before.

            “Um, Mac, why do you keep those rounds there? And wasn’t there only one a couple days ago?” She asked, reaching a hand up to touch them. A face between a smile and a grimace touched his features.

            “It’s an insurance policy I suppose.” He said, and seeing that he would have to elaborate further, sighed and removed the hat, staring at the rounds in the band.

            “When we were attacked, Lucy and Duncan and I, I had no weapon. I had left it on the other side of the station with our things, thinking we were safe as we lay down by the fire. It was stupid, I know now, but I thought we were alone.” He said heavily. Erin listened, placing a hand on his arm. She felt a small tremor run through the man.

            “When I finally did get to my gun, I didn’t have any ammo near. It was in my gear bag. I kept it unloaded around Duncan for safety, y’know.  It was just a huge mess all around. I know I may not have been able to kill all the ghouls before they killed her but…,” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “But if I had had just one round, I would have been able to make sure Lucy didn’t have to suffer the way she did.” He finished. Erin’s heart sunk to her stomach like a lead weight. She swallowed hard.

            “I always kept one bullet up there after that, for Duncan, and then when I left him, I guess I kept it for me. If I was ever in that kind of situation again, I was gonna go out my own way, not the terrible way that Lucy had to.” His eyes opened again and they looked at her, clear and full of emotion.

            “And then, after I saw you on the roof of that house in University Point, about to jump off instead of be killed by synths, I added another one. Because I knew that I couldn’t watch you die like that. I wouldn’t watch you die like that.” He finished, gazing into Erin’s eyes. Her fingers caressed the bullets in the hat he still held in his hands. She then slowly took it, and carefully replaced it on his head.

            “Let’s hope it will never come to that.” She said, feeling like this fell short of what she really wanted to say. For some reason, this odd gesture from the man touched her more deeply than his closeness did.

            “It won’t. Like I said, if I have the ability to be there, I will. Still, it makes me feel a bit better.” He said, letting the corners of his mouth twitch up. He adjusted the hat and kissed her again, before taking her hand again and leading her back to the houses.


	12. Ad Victoriam

 

            They could hear the Vertibird, even as it touched down in a field across the bridge from Sanctuary. Preston, Mama Murphy, and a few other settlers were watching it with marked interest, while Erin was gathering her things with MacCready. She was trying to hold it together, but her hands were shaking. She reached for another magazine to place in her pack when the merc’s hand rested over hers. She felt the roughness and the heat of them, and then looked up to him.

            “It’s gonna be okay.” He said softly, giving her hand a squeeze. She smiled at him.

            “I know.” She replied. He returned her smile with a grin of his own, showing off his crooked teeth. She cinched her bag closed and hoisted it over her shoulder.

            “Ready?” She asked the merc, as he slung his rifle on. He nodded and she followed him out of the small shack and over to where the small group had gathered. Deacon stood watching, a huge grin on his face. He had changed, finding a news cap to cover his bald head. If it hadn’t been for the sunglasses, she may have not recognized him.

            “You guys are in for a treat. A bird’s eye view of the Commonwealth.” He said, gesturing to the Vertibird as it idled in the field. Erin swallowed hard and looked to MacCready, who was eyeing the machine with obvious skepticism.

             Deacon pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and turned to them, handing it to Erin. She surveyed it. The paper was worn and stained, and she saw that it had blueprints on it. Blueprints of the Prydwen.

            “That’s the airship. You see here,” He said, gesturing to the top of the drawing, “These are the supports for the balloon. There are three charges you have to place, here, here, and here.” He pointed to three spot on the prints.

            “Here is where we will enter. We will give you each two Stealthboys to get around undetected, but they don’t last long, so I suggest haste. You’ll need to get up through the command deck and into the large chamber, then find the stairs up to the supports.” He continued, all the while dragging his fingers along the paper, tracing the route out. Erin took as many mental pictures as she could, and turned the paper to let MacCready do the same.

            “The Vertibird we have will be prepped and ready for flight, so once the charges are set just get back to it and we will make like trees.” He said. MacCready’s brow rose at this.

            “And leave? Like tree leaves? C’mon guy it’s not funny if I have to explain it.” Deacon said through a grin. Erin folded the blueprints and shoved them in the pocket of her jacket.

            “Shall we then?” She said, beginning to walk in the direction of the bridge leading out of town. The two men fell into step beside her, and she felt MacCready’s arm brush hers, a subtly reassuring touch.

            The noise of the Vertibird became deafening as they got closer, until she couldn’t even hear as Deacon yelled at her and pointed into the open hold of the machine. She grasped the metal edge and pulled herself in, crawling to a ragged looking jump seat. MacCready followed her, then Deacon. He poked his head into the cockpit and patted the man on the shoulder before sitting in the seat across from them. Deacon nodded at Erin, who returned with a smaller nod, and she felt a great vibration as the helicopter began lifting into the air. As they pulled away, the noise from the rotors got quieter, not having the ground to echo off of, and she could shout to Deacon again.

            “How far is it?” She asked him. His sunglasses glinted in the morning light.

            “Not far, maybe a five or six minute flight. These things move quickly. Here take these!” He yelled to her, holding out three smallish packages. The charges. She took them carefully and placed them gingerly in her leather bag, glancing sideways at MacCready, who was watching her intently.

             Erin looked out of the open side and saw Sanctuary already fading into a blur on the horizon. She could see Diamond City coming into view already, and she thought of how helpful one of these would have been when she had first started all of this, being able to skirt over ghoul infested Lexington and Cambridge and travel through the dangers of the Glowing Sea with ease.

            Deacon was right; it was not long before she saw the shadow of the Brotherhood’s airship, looming menacingly on the horizon. Deacon handed over two box like objects, the Stealthboys. She tossed one in her bag and strapped one around her waist, MacCready following suit.

            “When I give the signal, toss the switch, and then you’re on your own.” He shouted, glancing to the side and gauging the distance to the Prydwen.  He shot them two finger guns then and Erin flipped the switch of her box, seeing herself disappear into an invisible shimmer. She watched MacCready do the same, and almost panicked as he vanished in front of her. She took a deep breath and kicked out her leg, feeling her boot hit his beside her.

            “Good luck you two.” Deacon said, hitting his own switch and fading into the slight wave of invisibility. Erin stood, and felt the mercenary beside her follow suit. They were docking now, and she could see the catwalk about five feet below, empty except for a couple boxes covered in rope netting. She reached out and nudged MacCready, and then the two of them jumped, landing silently next to each other on the wooden boards.

            The Prydwen was much larger than she had envisioned in person. She had seen it from afar many times on her journey through the Commonwealth, but had underestimated its true size. She could almost believe that she was on the ground, it was so steady. There was only a slight humming vibration to the deck as they crept along.

            There were two sentries at the ships bulkhead leading to where they needed to go. Erin felt MacCready right behind her, almost close enough to feel his breath on her neck. His closeness made her anxiety lessen, though her heart still hammered in her chest as they moved up the steps to the doors. She was wondering how they were going to enter when a bit of luck struck, and the door swung open, a uniformed man coming out. The two sentries in power armor saluted the man, and then went back to their stance. Erin slipped behind the man, silent as the wind and slid in the door, pressing her hand against it briefly to hold it for MacCready, and hoping the soldiers did not notice the doors odd behavior. It slammed behind them and she held her breath, but no one came through.

            “Mac?” She whispered, noting that no one was in their immediate vicinity. She felt a brush at her elbow.

            “Here. Let’s go.” He answered back. She moved in a crouch, heading forward and around a staircase leading down to the navigation deck. It was unnerving and difficult to move when she couldn’t see her own feet, but the two managed to keep quiet as they moved to the wide ladder, and checking that it was empty began to climb it, coming out onto a landing above. Deacon had told her that most of the crew would be at breakfast around this time, and she was grateful that this appeared to be true; she saw only one person as they made the landing, walking away from them down a long hall.

            They climbed the first set of stairs to the right, leading to a large open chamber. She knew that the catwalk they needed was two floors up from this one. Silently they moved through the chamber until they reached the next steps, and she took those as well. She could feel MacCready next to her as she moved to the next flight of stairs, thanking every deity she could think of that it was going so smoothly, but still not letting her guard down.

             This area was high above the other floors, and narrower, allowing for only single file movement. Suddenly she saw a gleam of movement behind her, and MacCready blinked back into existence. She followed suit, shimmering into visibleness. Frantically the two of them reached into their bags and pulled on the new Stealthboys, flipping the switches almost in sync. Relief flooded her as they both blinked out of sight again, but her stomach lurched at the thought of how fast the Stealthboy had run out.

            “We have to hurry.” She whispered, moving as she did up to the first red valve where the charges were to be placed. She groped in her bag, cursing the fact she couldn’t see what she was looking for before her hand met the bundle of explosives. She hastily set the charge and adhered it to the panel, before hurrying to the next two. When the last one was set, she let out a breath.

            “Let’s go, quick.” MacCready whispered, almost startling her. She hiked her shotgun back up on her shoulder and turned the corner, heading back down the walkway towards where they had come up. They were halfway there when they saw a head pop up from the stairs, and a smallish recruit come up onto the narrow walk. Erin swore under her breath and grasped for MacCready, tearing him with her to the side, down another set of stairs that led them to the middle of the deck, where Brotherhood members were beginning their after breakfast routines. She swore again as they maneuvered by the railing, edging carefully along, trying to get to the last set of steps downward, and then to the back of the ship where they had entered.

            They were making decent progress, and had made the landing on the first floor when she saw it. The tell-tale glimmer of a Stealthboy wearing off. MacCready’s jacket flickered in front of her, and then she saw her Pip-boy twinkle into view at her arm. They were about thirty feet from the ladder to the command deck below, but they had surprise on their side. Grabbing the sleeve of MacCready’s coat, she dragged him into a run.

            “Hey! Stop them!” A voice bellowed from behind her, and she felt the first hot beam of a laser rifle streak by her head. They were close now, dodging around crates along the edge of the railing. She could hear boots pounding as more soldiers came to inspect what was happening. The air was full of lasers around them. She felt one graze her arm, the heat melting her jacket and shirt to her skin, causing an instant blister, but she kept running, hand still clutching the snipers sleeve. His free hand was pulling out his pistol, cocking it and beginning to randomly shoot behind them as they ran.

            “Stop! Don’t let them escape!” Voices were saying around them. They were there now, at the ladder. She didn’t bother with it, instead just jumping down to the command deck, landing in a crouch below, MacCready landing neatly beside her. She was standing now, facing the large window of the command deck when she saw him.

            Even having never met him, she knew Arthur Maxson by sight alone. A huge bear of a man he stood almost a foot taller than MacCready, and was three times as bulky. He was scowling, but she had heard that that was his basic countenance. He also held the largest Gatling laser she had ever seen in his hands. His great leather coat swinging about his legs he began to advance on them, and she heard the sickening sound of a laser charging up.

            “C’mon!” She screamed at MacCready, who was sending random shots towards the Brotherhood Elder, wrenching him around the ladder where other soldiers were beginning to make their way down. They bounded around the opening to the navigation deck. Erin was reaching the bulkhead door when she heard the laser discharge. She had the door swung open in an instant as she heard it recharging. She looked back for a split second to look where Maxson was, and saw MacCready, a look of mingled shock and horror on his face. She saw a bright red spot on his shoulder, getting bigger as the seconds ticked by.

            Everything suddenly felt like it was moving in slow motion. She could see Maxson behind them, advancing slowly while charging the laser for the next shot. She could see the other Brotherhood recruits coming down behind him, discharging their weapons wildly, failing to even come close to their targets for the most part. She could see MacCready, the blood on his shoulder growing to the size of a baseball, then a melon. She could see the adrenaline in him, trying to keep him on his feet, but the wound was too great. Whirling her head she could see the sentries turning, miniguns spinning up after recovering from the initial surprise of their appearance.

            Once, long ago before the Great War, Erin had been a passenger in a car that was struck going at high speeds. It had spun out of control and hit a guardrail, flipping four times before finally coming to rest on the side of the road upside down. The actual crash felt like it had taken milliseconds, but the aftermath had moved so slowly she felt as though she would remember it forever, the horror of the event hitting her as she saw the damage through the veil of astonishment and adrenaline.

             She felt that same feeling now, as she reached into her bag with one hand and pulled out a frag grenade, pulling the pin and dropping it at her feet. She reached out and yanked MacCready, pulling him halfway onto her shoulder as she turned to the steps to reach the docks. She sprang down them, the mercenary pulling heavily on her and she ducked them behind a barrel as the frag grenade went off, spraying bits of metal down around them. She grabbed MacCready and hiked him up again, hearing him groan and willing her legs to move them forward. She could feel his blood soaking her jacket, hot and sticky in the cold air.

            They were closing in on the Vertibird. She could hear the chaos behind her, and under it, hear the Gatling laser charging up once more. She saw Deacon in the back of the helicopter now, his face lined in a frown as the machine began its uncoupling process. The man stood behind the mounted gun and motioned for her to move to the side as it began spinning up. She obliged, ramming herself into the railing of the catwalk. MacCready was losing consciousness, becoming a heavier burden as the time drew on. She hitched him up again and set herself, drawing a breath. She knew the only thing keeping her up and going while carrying the man was adrenaline, and she could feel her legs straining to keep her quick pace.

            The bullets from the Vertibird began flying past her head, so close she heard them cut the air around her. She sprinted, all but dragging the sniper now, to the dock that held their escape. There was a noise, a cracking as of lightning burning the air and she felt a sharp pain in her thigh. She screamed, but kept her feet, still at a run towards the helicopter, blood hammering in her ears. The other members of the Brotherhood were almost on her as she hauled MacCready onto the deck of the Vertibird. Deacon pulled him the rest of the way on and the machine lurched free of the coupling, beginning to float a few feet away from the deck. Erin jumped, grasping the base of the mounted gun and yanked herself up, feeling the unsteadiness of the Vertibird under her as it took evasive maneuvers from the lasers that still split the air around them.

            A few stray lasers were still going off as they began the flight away from the Prydwen. Erin’s heart was pounding in her throat as she crouched over MacCready, ripping away his jacket from the wound on his shoulder. Her hands were soaked with blood as she fumbled his shirt away, finally seeing the skin underneath. It was both shredded and burned, radiating from the shoulder joint of his left arm to the collarbone. She could see the white of the bone beneath the skin, but quickly covered it with a rag that Deacon had handed her distractedly. She pressed the wound, willing the bleeding to stop. It was pooling up on the floor underneath the man.

            “MacCready. Mac!” She yelled at him, hysterical tears beginning to track down her face. The man’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open. She took one hand off the wound at his shoulder and grasped his face, pulling it to face hers fully. She wasn’t gentle.

            “Dammit Robert Joseph MacCready you don’t get to die on me! Wake the fuck up!” She screamed at him, shaking violently. She scrambled into her bag and pulled out a stimpak, jamming it into the man’s chest. This was only a temporary measure, she knew, but she had to do something. She tossed the used needle aside and it skidded under one of the jump seats. The rag she held was close to soaked through, but she thought she could feel the bleeding slowing. She pressed harder, ignoring the pain in her arm.

            “Rob. Robert please. You said you wouldn’t leave me.” She begged, her voice softening. Her free hand dropped the hold on his face and caressed his hair, pulling the sweat soaked hat off his head. His eyes flickered open, but were out of focus as they searched for her face.

            “I’m not gonna leave you. Not yet. You point and I shoot, remember?” He asked hoarsely. Erin let out a gasping sob at this and leaned in, roughly kissing the man all over his face. He sputtered weakly, but tried to return them with pecks of his own. She still held pressure on his wound, which she could tell was only oozing now, the puddle around them becoming a congealed sticky mess in the cold.

             “Yeah I remember.” She said through a choked sob, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth despite the situation around them.

             “Hang on to your butts.” Deacon yelled back at them. He had been in the cockpit since their escape, directing the pilot and also speaking into a radio on the console. Erin looked from him to the Prydwen, which had become a blur in the distance.

             She had time to blink once, before a giant fireball erupted from the place it had been. Her heart almost stopped at the sight, remembering the last time she had seen an explosion of that magnitude, some 211 years before. The heat of the explosion hit them, dulled by the distance but still there. She watched as the yellow faded to orange, and then to a black mushroom of smoke. The sky where the Prydwen had been was empty now, save for the black plumes that floated up from the wreckage on the ground.  Then the Vertibird turned its course, blocking the sight from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that in FO4 they changed how Stealthboys work, now with them becoming something you wear on the waist, but I'm not 100% on it, so just know that they have them and their using them. Haha


	13. One More Tomorrow

            She sat in a bed in a bright room, a small tube coming out from under a bandage on her arm. She could see her blood flowing out of it, snaking its way through and into the man lying in the bed next to her. It had been lucky that they had been compatible blood types, but that was where luck had run out.

           MacCready had lost consciousness soon after the explosion on the Vertibird and she had insisted that they land near Diamond City, so as to take him to a proper doctor. After a little fight from Deacon, which she had won with threats of bodily harm and major violence, they had landed right outside the green fences and dragged the mercenary into the city.

            It had been touch and go but every time the doctor made a negative remark about his condition, Erin had spewed threats and every profanity she knew until he was working again. She had shoved off the help of a nurse at first, forgetting about her burned arm and bleeding leg, until the doctor had said that MacCready had needed a blood transfusion, and that if she sat and let the nurse tend her, the doctor would see if she was a match and set it up.

            So here she sat, leg and arm cleaned and bandaged, a tube feeding life into MacCready next to her. She watched him, pretending he was just sleeping, pretending that he would wake up at any time, say something snarky about Deacon or the Prydwen and kiss her. A nurse had been in to check on them a while ago, but since then she had sat in silence, going over events in her head, remembering MacCready’s face as she saw the blood stain grow on his chest over and over again.

            She pushed the vision out of her head, closing her eyes and trying not to think of anything. This failed as the dull throb in her thigh came to the forefront of her mind once more. She shifted uncomfortably. She was unbelievably sore from the ordeal, no doubt from carrying the man next to her while dodging bullets and lasers. None of this bothered her as much as looking at the bed next to her and seeing how pale MacCready was in the dimmed light of the clinic room. Not being able to stand it anymore she got up, carefully pulling the tubes and wires so they wouldn’t disconnect or kink. She moved the short distance to the snipers bed and sat on the edge, moving his arm so she could sit close to him.

            “Please wake up.” She whispered, pushing a lock of hair out of his face, carefully smoothing it back into some semblance of the style it usually held.

            “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I’m sorry for everything.” She continued, gently grasping his hand in hers and pulling it to her mouth. She kissed his fingers, reveling in their roughness on her lips. A silent tear made its way down her face.

            “Do I look that bad?” A husky voice came from the bed below her. Her heart jumped into her throat and she had to fight the urge to fling herself onto him. She looked at his face, another tear streaking her cheek, this one, from happiness.

            “You look like shit, Mac.” She said through a grin. He was eyeing her through the glassy look of pain, but he managed a smile.

            “Yeah well I feel like it. Did I get hit by a train?” He asked, free hand touching gingerly at his shoulder. Erin pulled his hand away from the bandages as he winced.

            “You took a Gatling laser to the shoulder. Arthur Maxson’s Gatling laser, if you’d like to be specific about it.” She answered. His face showed mild surprise, then amusement.

            “I sure am gonna have the best stories from traveling with you.” He laughed. Erin’s grin faded. She turned her face from him, trying to hide a new wave of tears that stung her eyes.

            “What’s wrong?” He said, a worried tone in his voice. He tried to sit up on his elbow, but let out a hiss of pain and eased back. Erin ran the back of her hand against her cheeks.

                “What’s wrong? You almost die and all you can say is it will make a good story? We shouldn’t have done this. We should have found another way. Or I should have just done it myself.” She said, half angry, half sobbing. MacCready squeezed her hand and pulled her to face him again.

                “No. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I knew this was a possibility. I know worse is a possibility. But I won’t let you face it alone. You don’t deserve that, Erin.” He said thickly. Erin stifled a scoff. His blue eyes were boring into her; she could feel them on her face even as she looked at a nondescript spot on the threadbare blanket.

                “I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you along with everything else.” She said, voice barely audible even to herself.

                She had been thinking these same words over and over since the Vertibird, since she had knelt in the pool of his blood and felt the flow of it under her hands. The thought of losing him had choked her, had ripped her heart out. _“If you lose him, you’ve lost everything.”_ The voice inside of her had said. She knew it had been right, and she knew it was right now.

                “You won’t lose me, I’ll be-“

                “You can’t know! Look what happened! You almost died, you might have if I hadn’t been able to give you blood. If you die there won’t be anything left, do you understand?” She gasped. He watched her intently and she could see the confusion and hurt in his face.

            “I found you right after I discovered the truth about Shaun.  I spent the better part of a year searching for him, for my little boy and that kept me going, thinking that I may be able to get something from before back. I thought if I found him, even if he wasn’t a baby anymore, I could still go on even though everything from before was gone.” She continued. Her grip on the merc’s hand was tight; as if she needed to reassure herself he was there, that he wasn’t a dream.

            “And then, for just a small amount of time, from when I found out who my son had become until you sat next to me in that bar I knew what it felt like to have nothing. To know nothing and no one and be truly alone and empty and it is terrifying! I never want to feel like that again and if I lose you then I will. You’re all I have in this fucking wasteland, do you know that?” Her voice rose at the question. MacCready nodded slowly, his eyes glued to her. It was silent for a long time, aside from sniffles from Erin as her tears ebbed. The sniper reached out and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch.

            “I do know. But I can’t let you carry this weight alone. I need to stay by you. I need to be there for you, to help you with this monumental task you’ve set yourself on.” He said, a pleading note in his voice. Erin’s mouth opened as if to say something but he cut her off.

            “I can’t lose you either, Erin. The only thing I can do is follow you in whatever you do, and try to do my best to protect you. We’re in this together now. I’ve lost someone I loved before, and I won’t let it happen again.” He finished. Erin’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes went from hers to a spot on the floor, and the tips of his ears flushed red.

            “MacCready, I-,” She started, but was interrupted by the door to the clinic swinging open. It was Dr. Sun, followed by Deacon. Dr. Sun approached the bed, clicking his tongue in reproach upon seeing Erin out of bed. She removed herself from MacCready’s grasp and moved back to sit on her own bed, careful of the tubes that still connected them.

            “How are you feeling? Any dizziness?” The doctor asked MacCready, his hands running over the man’s chest pressing and prodding spots by the bandages on his shoulder. The sniper winced at the doctors ministrations.

            “I’m alright I guess. Not dizzy really, just tired.” He said, in a clear voice. Erin’s heart began racing as she saw the doctor begin to disengage them from the tubes, removing hers and stopping the flow to MacCready. He was still so pale, though a tinge of color had begun to show on his cheeks.

            “He’s okay? He doesn’t need more blood?” She asked as the doctor pressed a gauze piece to the pinprick on her skin. He nodded absently as though barely hearing her.

            “That’s all I’m willing to risk taking from you right now. You both just need to rest and take it easy.” He said to her before turning back to MacCready.

            “Once that shoulder is healed, you’ll probably need to do daily exercises to get full range of motion back. Your muscle was shredded pretty badly. I did what I could with the limited resources we have, but I’m not a miracle worker.” He said dismissively to the merc. Erin was beginning not to like this man very much. His bedside manner left much to be desired.

             MacCready shifted uncomfortably as the doctor stepped back from his bed. He tersely checked the bandages on Erin’s arm and thigh, noting something on a tattered clipboard.  He turned to exit with only a quick nod to the both of them, letting the door fall hard behind him.

            “Nice guy.” MacCready grunted, turning himself on the bed to face Erin and Deacon, who had been leaning against a wall in the corner, and who now was approaching them. He sat on the end of Erin’s bed. It was quiet for a moment; all three of them finally able to let the weight of what had just transpired fall on them. Deacon broke the silence first, adjusting his sunglasses higher on his nose and clearing his throat.

            “That was insane.” He said. Erin eyed him, deciding whether to be upset at this remark, or to agree with him.

            “We can go then? To the Institute?” The sniper said, catching Erin off guard. She stared at him, his pale face fixed on Deacon’s, daring him to dick them around again.

            “Mac-“Erin began, but was cut off.

            “Yeah. We are ready for you to go whenever you are. Desdemona is completely astounded by what you’ve accomplished so far. She’s eager to see what you can do there.” Deacon replied. MacCready’s eyes narrowed at the man.

            “We’re not doing this for her. We’ve done enough for you guys. We’re going into the Institute to blow it up, not to help your synths escape. That was the plan the whole time.” MacCready replied, ice in his voice. His fingers twitched against the bed sheets in that anxious way they often did. Deacon stiffened, but nodded.

            “Yeah, I know. But if we can help them while you’re there…” He trailed off. MacCready glanced at Erin, and she raised her brow at him and then half shrugged.

            “We can all get what we want, I think. But we need a while to recuperate and get ready. Once Mac is okay I want to head back to Sanctuary. That’s where the relay is.” She said diplomatically. Deacon nodded and let a small smirk slide onto his face.

            “You should hear what they’re saying about you two on Diamond City Radio.”  


            “I can only imagine.” Erin replied.

 

 

            In the event, it was three days before MacCready was steady enough to travel, and even then Erin kept a close eye on him. His shoulder was healing nicely, but she could tell it was still painful to him, in spite of the small doses of Med-X he was prescribed. The road to Sanctuary was uneventful, and Erin breathed in relief when the Red Rocket outside of the settlement came into view. Dogmeat ran out to greet the ragtag crew as they crossed the bridge, yipping and bouncing around them in excitement.

            Erin’s arm had healed for the most part, a scab marking where the wound had been. Her leg was coming along, but she knew it would be a couple more days before she was ready to charge on the Institute. Deacon had told them that he would be ready, day or night, just say the word, and then retired to one of the bunk houses Erin had built on the outskirts of the settlement.

            The next week was passed slowly, Erin taking time to build up more defenses around Sanctuary while MacCready watched her, often coming to help with small things using his arm as best he could, and trying to test it and stretch it to keep the muscle from tightening too much. It was slow going though; his arm was still jerky and stiff when he tried to use it too much. Holding his rifle against that shoulder would be out of the question for a time yet. Erin kept a wary eye on him, and each day her heart sank lower and lower. She knew he wouldn’t be ready for the Institute any time soon. This hadn’t seemed to dawn on him, however.

            They had worked all day, shoring up a wall behind the house she had lived in before the war, and when the light had begun to fade, decided to clean up and head inside. MacCready was oiling his rifle, something he did often nowadays, and Erin thought it was because he hadn’t been able to use it for so long. The radio was playing, soft indistinct music floated through the small shack. She closed her eyes and wished that this could be their life now, that they didn’t have a monumental task ahead of them. Or rather, that she didn’t have the task ahead of her.

            The song changed to a slow rhythmic song that Erin recognized as “One More Tomorrow”, by Frankie Carle. It had been a favorite of hers before the war. She opened her eyes to a rustling noise, and found MacCready standing in front of her, his hand held out.

            “Care to dance?” He said quietly. His hat was off, thrown onto the small couch in the corner with his jacket. She could see the bold lines of his face, outlined in shadow. He was smiling at her, but his face still held concern in the brows. She reached out and grasped his hand.

            “You dance?” She asked with a smirk.

“Not very well.” He admitted as she stood. He brought her close, putting one arm around her waist and holding her other hand in his. Erin’s free hand went to his shoulder. He wasn’t a very tall man, but she was rather small herself, and she laid her head on his chest, feeling his cheek rest on the top of her head. They swayed gently to the music in the center of the room. Erin could hear MacCready’s heart thrumming in her ears. She closed her eyes.

            “ _One more tomorrow, to hold you in my embrace~”_ The radio crooned. Erin sighed. She had made up her mind earlier in the day. She needed to tell him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. MacCready solved the problem for her.

            “I think I’ll be ready to go soon. Maybe just another week.” He said softly. She squeezed her eyes shut harder before pulling away from his chest to look him in the face.

            “Mac, I-I don’t think… I mean, I’m going tomorrow.” She said suddenly. They stopped swaying, but stayed held together in each other’s arms. MacCready’s face fell, making Erin’s heart skip a beat.

            “No, I’m going with you. I have to. I’m not letting you go alone. I just need-“

            “I have to go. I know what you’re thinking but I need to. I can’t wait any longer and I think… I think maybe it’s better this way.”

_“To have your hand cling to mine, and wander through paradise~”_

            “Better how? We’ve been working towards this this whole time! We’ve been through so much, we’re in the home stretch, just a little longer and we can-“

            “It’s better because this is more dangerous than anything we’ve done so far. And after the Prydwen, I can’t-“She started.

            “We talked about this; I won’t leave you, Erin. I know I got hurt but what about you?” He pleaded. Erin grasped his shirt as tears began to well in her eyes.

            “I can’t take you from Duncan.” She said, so quietly she almost wondered if she had said it out loud. At this, MacCready pulled out of her grasp a little, holding her almost at arm’s length. He stared at her.

_“One more tomorrow, to kiss your lips constantly~”_

            “From Duncan? What do you mean?” He asked hoarsely.

            "I mean that you still have someone. You have someone here that will miss you if you never come back, Robert. You can’t take that chance. Trust me. What I have to do at the Institute… I just know that you need to stay. You need to go to him. He is your son, he will forgive you for what happened, and I know it. But you can’t go through your life knowing he is there and yours and not be there for him. I wish-“ She stumbled, muffling a small sob, “I wish I had the chance that you do.” She finished, desperation lacing her voice. MacCready’s blue eyes were searching her face, as though trying to discern if she was serious or not.

_“And then tomorrow I’ll pray, for one more tomorrow with you~”_ The song ended, fading into Travis’s dulcet tones. The two were quiet for a long time.

            “I would miss you if you never came back, Erin.” MacCready said after a time. Erin let a small smile come over her face.

            “I’ll just have to come back then.” She said, matter-of-factly.

            “Promise you’ll come back?” He asked, his voice hard. She nodded.

            “If you promise that if I don’t, you’ll go to Duncan.” She retorted. He nodded, the lines on his face set grimly in the dim light. She kissed him then, more out of need then tenderness. Her heart was pounding as she realized that with this out of the way, she was mere hours away from an assault on the Institute.

             The sniper must have felt her stiffen, because he brought her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss. She felt his need matching hers. She brought her hands up his back, inside of his shirt, tracing his spine and sending ripples of goosebumps over his skin. She pulled up and deftly removed his shirt, helped by a shrug from the man. One of his hands went to her face, tracing the line of her jaw, and then trailing down her neck, causing her to shiver.

            He pulled her shirt off roughly, and then went to her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin at the nape. She gasped, dragging her fingers through his hair. He wasn’t being tender now, his desire was hot and demanding, a need instead of a wanting. She felt it too and pulled him on top of her onto the bed. One of his hands went to her chest, cupping her and roughly bringing her nipple to stand. She let out small gasps as his mouth found her other breast, nipping her hard. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg and reached down, pulling him closer by the waist of his pants and clumsily tried to remove them, hindered by his ministrations at her chest. Once he was free he kicked the clothes away and quickly removed hers as well.

            She took him in her hand, giving quick strokes on the soft skin. He moaned breathlessly and smashed a ruthless kiss onto her lips, one of his hands coming between her legs, easing her apart.

            “Rob, now.” She said eagerly and he shifted quickly and was at her entrance, pushing in hard and fast. This was not the slow and passionate coupling of before. This was raw and desperate, both needing each other more than ever before. His thrusts were wild and rough, and she was seeing stars before long. She felt the building inside of her, the warmth spreading from that inner place, ready to burst. She grasped him tight, digging her fingers into the skin of his back, feeling his breath hot on her neck, coming ragged now. She let everything go then, calling his name into the night. He followed behind, spilling into her. After a few more less enthusiastic thrusts he pulled out of her, rolling beside her on the bed, his eyes closed. They both were breathing hard.

           “I _really_ like it when you use my first name.” He said finally. Erin grinned, opening one eye to look at him.

            “Rob?” She asked. He turned his face to look at her, raising a brow.

            “I-I love you, you know.” She said, her heart pounding from more than the sex.

            “I love you too, Erin.”


	14. Mankind, Redefined

         The relay hissed and crackled loudly as they approached. It was sturdily built, she knew. She had built it herself. But today it seemed daunting. A giant contraption meant to send her to a quest that she may never come back from. She swallowed hard, hiking her shotgun higher on her shoulder. MacCready’s hand squeezed her elbow reassuringly. Deacon was standing near the console, arms folded on his chest, but with his usual wry grin across his face. He turned to greet them as they came closer.

         “A beautiful day for it, huh?” He asked nonchalantly. Erin felt MacCready stiffen beside her, but brushed his arm to calm him. Deacon let his face fall to seriousness.

         “Alright then, right to business I guess. When we send you in all hell is going to break loose. The synth’s that are ready to turn will start the rebellion the moment you relay in. They’re going to shut down the relay, so we need to you get to the Director’s office as fast as you can and override the system. Then we can send the rest of our Railroad team in, as well as get everyone out when the time comes. Think you can do that?” Deacon asked. Erin nodded, remembering the terminal in Shaun’s apartment she had visited. She forced down a shiver that started through her.

         “You know where the reactor is, so I don’t need to tell you what you have to do there. Just attach this and send it into meltdown mode and get the fuck out. Once you’re back, we hit the button and blow it sky high.” He said indelicately. He pulled out an oblong shaped metallic object. It had some wires and a red button on the face of it. Erin took it and raised an eyebrow at Deacon.

         “It’s a Fusion Pulse Charge. It will sabotage the reactor and make it blow up. You won’t have much time once it is set, so don’t screw around. Once they realize it’s there they will try to remove it, so hurry back to the relay after it is set.” He said seriously. She placed it in her bag, set her shoulders and turned, kissing MacCready fiercely before hopping into the sparking contraption.

         “Let’s just do it then.” She said, yelling to be heard over the noise. Deacon nodded and went behind the terminal, beginning the process. Erin’s eyes met MacCready’s.

         “I’ll be back soon.” She called, and then she felt the horrible ripping sensation as she was relayed into the Institute.

         She was alone in the room, and it looked the same as it had been when she came before. She pulled her gun down in front of her, checking it to make sure it was loaded and ready, then moved at a quick pace forward, towards the elevator that would bring her down into the Institute proper. She felt a shiver as she passed the room with the glass observation room. It was empty, but she could still feel the vestiges of the feelings she had when she first came here. The feelings of fear, relief, mingled with shock and disbelief as she saw what she thought was Shaun, only to have all the feelings replaced by a soul-crushing emptiness when she realized the truth.

         She shook herself and moved on, having no difficulty finding the elevator. If Deacon was right, and the rebellion had begun, security likely had more pressing matters to deal with. She punched the button with a shaking fist and felt the slight vibrations as it started down. She took a deep breath, running through in her head where she had to go, the path she had to take to reach the terminal.

         The tube around her was dark, then suddenly filled with a blinding light. As her eyes adjusted, she could see flashes of laser pistols streaking through the air. She saw a mess of synths on the ground, running like ants in multiple directions, blindly shooting at each other. Some had barricades up and were crouched behind them. She could see there were two Institute security synths crouched by the elevator, shooting into the atrium. They hadn’t noticed her in all the commotion.

         As the elevator came to a stop and the door spun open, she raised her gun up and loosed two shots into the back of both of the robot’s heads. They crumpled in sparking heaps as she launched over them, moving quickly to the cover of a nearby hallway. She assessed the situation. There seemed to only be confusion and no real method to what was happening. She could see only one or two bodies on the ground beside the two she had dispatched. She wondered silently if that was a good sign or not.

          Scanning the area she saw that she was under the wrong hallway. The one she needed was across the way, underneath the green shop sign. Lasers were flying back and forth. She could hear the crackling sound of them hitting their targets. A semblance of chaotic order was beginning to show now. A group of the Gen 3 synths, the rebels, were forming a small group on the grassy area caddy corner to her. They had knocked a couple benches over and were crouched behind them, shooting over the top haphazardly. Another group of security synths were gathered in a line across the way, trying to advance but not getting very far for the fire the other side was laying down. No one had noticed her yet, but she wasn’t likely to stay that way for long if she ran across the clearing now. She reached into her bag and pulled out a frag grenade, tossing it in a long arc to the feet of the opposing synths. It exploded with a huge reverberating noise, sending shrapnel in all directions. It was enough of a distraction, and as the firing stopped momentarily to allow for the clearing of smoke, she streaked across the way, skidding into cover behind the wall of the hallway.

         She peeked around the corner, saw that a new group of security was coming over the rise from underneath the sign that said “Robotics” and turned quickly before they could see her.  
She had taken one step when a dark figure stepped out from behind the low counter to the shop. Like lightning it was on her, a huge hand wrapped around her throat, tightening with such force she felt as though her throat would be crushed. She struggled violently, one hand ripping at the hand around her neck, the other punching feebly at the figure, who she saw in her panic was an Institute Courser.

         The Courser was lifting her off the ground, dark gloved hand clasping harder around her trachea. She struggled to keep her footing, coming up on tiptoes. Dark spots were dancing in her vision and her lungs were on fire, screaming at her for a breath she could not take. Both of her hands were tearing at the one around her throat now, scrabbling uselessly against the iron grip of the synth in front of her. Its dark eyes were searing into hers, watching with cold detachment as it strangled the life from her.

         As the edges of her vision began to blur, she heard the strangest noise. A loud clanging and a hiss as though steam was escaping from a pipe. Very suddenly the Courser in front of her became headless in a ripping of synthetic blood and sinew. She was dropped to the ground hard. The hand was still around her throat but was slack now, and she pulled it away, taking huge gulps of air. Her lungs felt tight and she knew her throat was bruised, but all she could concentrate on was breathing again.

         “Holy crap Tinker Tom was right.” She heard a disbelieving voice say. She whipped her head around to see MacCready standing before her, holding the Railway Rifle that they had seen in the Railroad HQ some time ago. Her mouth gaped open and she looked from the sniper to the weapon, and then turned to see what he was looking at.

         The coursers head was firmly nailed to the metallic wall behind them, bits of artificial viscera and blood dripping down underneath it where the neck had been so violently ripped away. She stared at it, wondering if she had actually died for a moment and this was some strange oxygen deprived dream she was having as her brain shut down. She blinked and looked back to MacCready, who was advancing quickly on her.

         “H-How?” She croaked hoarsely. Her voice sounded strange and raspy from the injury to her neck, but the sound still came out. MacCready grasped her elbow and pulled her up, taking her chin in his hand and lifting it, surveying the damage. He half shrugged.

         “I’ll explain later. We have to move now. Are you good?” He asked, reaching down and picking up her shotgun and pushing it back in her hands. She was anything but good right now, she thought, but seeing his face made her pounding heart and racing thoughts slow a little.

         “Let’s go. This way.” She whispered. He only nodded and fell into step behind her, hiking the large weapon back up into a ready position. She half wondered about his shoulder, but pushed it from her mind for the time being, focusing instead on their trek to Father’s apartment.

         They had made it to the stairs now, winding their way upwards towards their destination. They only encountered one synth, a rebel who was running down the stairs towards the commotion of the battle in the courtyard. They reached the landing Erin had been looking for and her pace slowed, her heart hammering in her chest. She took a deep breath and looked to the man behind her, who nodded encouragingly to her. She approached the door, which slid open silently.

         Shaun was lying on what Erin immediately knew was his deathbed. In the few months since she had last seen him, he had become a frail shell of what he was before. The bones of his face jutted out in a skeletal caricature of a face, his eyes were sunken into his skull in dark pits. His hair had thinned, but was still present, creating a stark white frame for the gauntness. Erin choked back a sob that rose in her bruised throat. The man in the bed turned towards her, his face a mask of hatred and flimsily guarded rage.

         “You. I didn’t think I would see you again.” He said, his voice hoarse and dripping with disdain. Erin almost flinched at his tone. She straightened her stance and approached him, forcing her wobbly legs to work.

         “Come for the reactor? We got it working, despite having no help from you.” He continued.

         “Shaun, I’m- I’m sorry… I have to.” She whispered, her weak voice cracking. Despite the terrible feeling in her chest she kept eye contact with him. She saw his sneer at her words.

         “Sorry? You’re not sorry. You’re here to throw away everything we-I have worked so hard to build. It’s not enough that I would die before I could see it’s true potential realized, now you plan on destroying it before my very eyes?” He went on, his clear voice belying his feeble condition. Erin shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tightness in her throat deepen and tears prickle the corners of her eyes. She could hear MacCready shift behind her and cleared her throat.

         “I am sorry Shaun, really I- You’re my son and I-“ She started.

         “Oh spare me. Tell me, why are you doing this? What misplaced moral notion do you have to throw humanity’s best hope in the garbage?” He asked, his eyes darting from her to MacCready. Her hand went to her chest, trying to relieve the knot that had settled there.

          “Shaun, you don’t know what it’s like out there. There are good people, trying their hardest to survive! I’ve met them, befriended them… loved them,” She said quietly, “What you’re doing here, it’s terrorizing them. They fear the Institute! You aren’t helping humanity; you’re replacing them with synths!” She pleaded as tears began to run down her face. She wiped at them with an irritated gesture.

         “Keep your tears. If you had half the mind I thought you did you would know that the world above is doomed. You would have been director, you know! You would have held humanity’s fate in the palm of your hand! But no, you’re throwing it away, for… this.” He said, weakly gesturing to the sniper behind her. His face was contorted in fury, and somewhere deep in Erin’s mind, she thought vaguely that he looked a lot like Nate. The thought made her nauseous.

         “They deserve to write their own story, Shaun.” She said, feeling that this was a weak explanation for what she felt. He scoffed.

         “It doesn’t matter now. You’ll accomplish what you came here to do. You always do whatever you set your mind to. That’s what would have made you great.” He said, and she heard a note of regret in his voice. Not for her, she thought, but for the idea that she was willingly going to blow up.

         “Why are you even here now? Do you want forgiveness? Do you want to gloat?” He asked venomously. Erin swallowed hard.

         “I wanted to see if maybe there was something of the son I would have raised inside of you. I wanted to see if I could make you understand… I wanted to see if you could help…” She said, realizing the futility of her words too late. Shaun’s pallid face was turning red, but when he spoke his words were calm and even, though she could hear the ice in them.

         “Why would I help you?”

         “Because there’s a chance…less people would die if you did…” Erin implored. A sickening smile came across Shaun’s face and he let out a humorless laugh. It was quiet for a moment. MacCready came up behind her.

         “He isn’t going to help us, Erin. We should just find the terminal and go.” He whispered in her ear. She nodded absently but didn’t move. Her eyes were glued to the eyes of the man in the bed.

         “The terminal access code is 9003.” Shaun’s voice said sharply. Erin’s heart skipped a beat and she moved to touch Shaun’s arm, but he pulled it away.

         “Get away from me. Just go. Leave me to die, alone.” He said. There was nothing in his voice but malice. Erin’s hand went to her mouth, stifling a sob. MacCready was at the terminal on the side of the room now, frantically keying in the numbers they had just been told.

         “Got it. We’re good.” He said after a time. Erin glanced to him, then back to the bed. Shaun’s gaze had shifted, and he was staring at the wall in front of him now, face like stone.

         “Shaun, I-“

         “I’ll never forgive you for this. I hate you. And I hate that you've chosen them over your own blood.” He said quietly. Erin’s hands fell limply to her sides. She took a shuddering breath and nodded ever so slightly, tears still silently streaking her face. She knew she would never get him to understand. MacCready was beside her then, gently tugging at her arm.

         “C’mon Erin. Let’s go now.” He said softly, his voice gentle in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned, letting the sniper guide her out of the room. She didn’t open her eyes until she heard the soft swish of the automatic door close behind them. She let out one painful sob, and then pushed down the rest, trying to get herself together as MacCready stood in front of her.

         “He didn’t mean it, Erin… He’s angry, furious even. He would say anything to hurt you.” He said, trying to explain it. Erin knew the truth though. She had heard it, and she had seen it in his sunken eyes. The burning passion of hatred flowed from every pore of him. She knew that he would die hating her.

         “He did. He meant it.” Was all she said, before turning and guiding MacCready down the spiral stairs, back towards the noise in the courtyard.


	15. It's All Over But The Crying

         Unlocking the terminal had not only given the Railroad access to the relay, which they were now using to send their heavily armed men into the Institute, but had also disabled some of the synth security units, which were powering down in dramatic slow motion. The tide of the battle was turning, and as Erin and MacCready ran across the way to the sign that read “Advanced Systems”, they could see that the rebel synths were actually driving the opposing forces into a retreat. She could hear the crackling of people and synths being relayed in and out as they moved.

         “It’s in the back of Advanced Systems. There will probably be extra security.” She said, remembering the disarmed laser turrets she had seen when she was shown the reactor before. MacCready just nodded and took point behind her as they approached the door. They stood on either side of it and swung around the corner as the door slid open, clearing the hallway in front of them before entering.

         It was quiet, the majority of the synths and scientists were either fighting or had taken cover. She could see the dark hallway leading to the underground level where the reactor was and motioned to it. MacCready nodded and they moved in a low crouch towards it. He took out two turrets with railway rounds, and they moved unhindered into the unfinished part of the Institute. The pipes along the walls hissed with steam and other unknowns as they crept through, wary of traps and turrets. She motioned to a darkened alcove where she knew a machinegun turret lay, and plugged her ears as MacCready’s well placed shot caused it to explode in a shower of fire and shrapnel.

         Finally they turned to corner to the large room where the reactor sat, quietly humming along. They dispatched two laser turrets perched high on the walls and made for the stairs, walking silently along, cautious for any movement or noise around them. There was none, however, and Erin straightened as she walked up to the reactor. She had to go inside of it to place the charge, that she knew. She could already feel the air buzz with radioactivity around her, her Pip-boy clicking lightly, and could only imagine what would happen when she opened the door.

         Suddenly a laser round streaked past her, so close she heard the hiss and felt some of the hair of her ponytail singe off. She whirled around to see two Coursers, dressed in their black leather outfits enter the room. They were pointing laser rifles at her and loosing rounds. She ducked, trying to find shelter in the open area. MacCready was already moving, he had the large gun hiked up on his shoulder, aiming it carefully and firing on the synths. They were strong though, as Erin had found out, and though some of his shots were hitting the mark, they kept coming.

         Erin reached into her bag and chucked a grenade, the resulting blast causing bits of rock and dust to fall from the ceiling. The clang from the Railway rifle echoed off the concrete walls, causing Erin’s ears to ring. She reached the end of her clip and was reloading when she heard MacCready’s voice over the din.

         “Erin! Go! Do it now, I’ll hold them!” He yelled, not looking at her. She hesitated, but only for a moment. The two Coursers, suspicious of the large weapon he held, were taking shelter behind the concrete pillars that dotted the room. They were still firing at them, but their cover caused them to have to be more methodical about it, giving MacCready the advantage with the high ground on the catwalk.

         Quickly she turned to face the door to the reactor again. Her pulse quickened as she got close and felt the unsettling feeling of radiation surrounding her. It made her feel like her whole body itched under the surface of her skin, like ants were running along the long bones in her legs and arms. She dug her arm in her bag, pulling out the pulse charge, balancing it in the palm of her left hand.

          MacCready let out a whoop as he dropped one of the Coursers behind her. She still heard the other Courser’s laser rifle firing, albeit at a much slower rate than before. She reached forward and opened the door, taking a deep breath. Her Pip-boy was clicking so fast now that it had become a long steady noise in her ear. She plunged inside, becoming engulfed by the blue glow of the reactor. Quickly she attached the charge to the only place she could find to fit it and whirled around, exiting and slamming the door behind her in one fluid motion. She felt a dull nausea and knew she would have to take some Rad-Away before too long.

         “It’s in!” She called to the sniper right as he landed a killing blow on the remaining Courser.

         “Yeah, that’s how we do it!” He yelled, and then turned to her, his face flushed with excitement and, she thought, pain. He was holding the rifle awkwardly in his left hand. Erin started down the stairs back towards the hallway they had come through.

         “We have to go now. Back to the relay room and out before anyone comes down here and tries to remove the charge.” She said to MacCready, who was hot on her heels. They moved at a jog back through the hallway to Advance Systems and out into the atrium. Flashes of blue lightning crackled around them, along with stray bullets and lasers. They made for the elevator, which miraculously was still in working order. Erin punched the red button and it began moving them towards the upper level with the relay room.  She turned to face MacCready in the few quiet moments.

         “I came through right after you. Deacon had this-,” He said, gesturing to the Railway Rifle, “to take through when you got the terminal access codes unlocked, but I told him I wasn’t staying, that I would go after you and he gave it to me.” He explained, answering her unspoken question. She let a small smile flit over her face.

         “You know I couldn’t let you do this alone.” He said, playfully brushing her chin with his free hand.

         “Yeah, well I guess it was good timing.” She said, her hand moving reflexively to her neck. MacCready nodded and squeezed her arm, returning her smile.

         The compartment went black, and then the light came again, shimmering from the top of the tube as they came to the landing above. They waited as the door slid around and stepped out, MacCready moving quickly in the direction of the relay. Erin nodded for him to go in and stepped in front of the terminal just outside the machine. She typed out a few commands, knowing that with the relay out of the Institute’s control, she would have to contact Deacon to take them out. It didn’t take much to establish the connection; he must have been waiting for them.

         “Ready for some fireworks?” His tinny voice came from the console. She grinned.

         “Yeah, get us the fuck out of here.” She said, standing straight again. She moved to come around the computer when a noise from behind alerted her. She whirled to see a Courser, flanked by two synths barreling into the room. MacCready had seen them first and had already begun firing on them. She flung herself into a crouch and began firing also, moving backwards towards the relay.

         “Erin, C’mon!” She heard MacCready yell. She heard the buzzing as the relay began its procedure. Panic gripped her as she realized she was still a few large steps away from the entrance. She turned fully now, launching herself towards MacCready, who had one hand on the grip of the Rifle, firing it still and one hand outstretched to her. She reached out to it, stretching her arm and fingers out as long as she could. Then there was nothing.

 

         Dark. It was dark. Were her eyes closed? Yes. Was she dead? Maybe. She tried to take stock of what she could feel. She was laying on something. Her legs were numb. She felt like she had just run full tilt up 10 flights of stairs. Her body was alright, sore for sure, but intact. Arms. When she got to her arms she realized something wasn’t right. They were both there. Or were they? She felt her right one, even managed to wriggle her fingers. But her left… Pain. Sudden pain from her left arm, bringing a strangled noise from her bruised throat. The pain grounded her and brought her thoughts straight again.

         She was laying on something soft, and when she ventured to crack open an eye, she saw that what she had landed on was MacCready. He was breathing heavily, his own eyes closed, but when he felt her movement his eyes shot open.

         “Erin.” He whispered, relief flooding his voice. She rolled herself off him with some effort, using her right hand to push into a kneel, making sure she could handle becoming upright again. Looking around, she saw that they were on the roof of one of the downtown skyscrapers. It was twilight, and the last rays of the sun were disappearing over the western sky.

         “We thought you were dead! Almost hit the button without you.” A light voice called from behind her. She slowly turned to see Deacon and Desdemona, along with a few other Railroad members, standing a ways away from them. Erin stood completely, left arm cradled in her right, and MacCready followed suit, leaving the heavy rifle on the ground. They made the few steps towards the group and saw now that Deacon held a smallish box, red, with a button on the top.

         “Do the honors?” He asked, holding the box out to Erin. She stole a glance at MacCready, who was watching her intently. She nodded unsteadily and reached her good hand out, realizing too late she was shaking like a leaf.

         Then, MacCready’s hand came on top of hers, covering it in a reassuring warmth. His fingers curled gently around hers as they rested on the button Deacon held. Erin sucked in a deep breath and held it, before allowing her hand to press down on the object in Deacon’s hand.

         There was a long silence, and Erin almost spoke, wondering if they had taken too long, and if the Institute had managed to remove the charge. As quickly as that thought passed through her mind, there was a violent shaking through the building, and then a blinding light shown on the other side of the river from where they stood. She raised her undamaged arm to block the light, and felt the heat come over her then. It was deadened by the distance, but still brought back unpleasant memories of 210 years earlier, when she had felt that same heat as she was lowered into Vault 111. She let out the breath she had been holding slowly, and still holding MacCready’s hand, let it fall off the button. As they giant fireball turned to a looming plume of black smoke, she turned to the sniper.

         “Let’s go home.”  She said quietly. He nodded and pulled her close to him in a gentle hug.

 

 

          Erin knew that blowing up the Institute was a huge undertaking, the results of which would be felt all over the Commonwealth, but she hadn’t known how huge the change would be. It was almost immediate, however. Once Travis “Lonely Miles” had reported it on Diamond City Radio, it was almost like a weight had been collectively lifted off the entire region. She felt it in the people she spoke to; she saw it in the faces of the synths she had helped free. Seeing the stark contrast of the attitudes of the people of the Commonwealth after the Institute was no longer a threat gave her the knowledge that her decision had been right, no matter how hard that decision had been.

         They were back in Sanctuary. It had been a week since the assault on the Institute, and Erin and MacCready had been welcomed like kings by the settlers. The first few nights back had been filled with telling tales of the adventures they had been on, what they had seen and done in the past months to lead to the Institute’s demise. Finally after everyone had heard the death-defying story multiple times, the two were left alone.

         They lay in the bed in Erin’s shack, naked save for the threadbare blanket thrown over them. Erin ran her good hand over MacCready’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, reveling in him, and finally feeling like she had a chance to take him all in. Her other arm had been wrapped tightly; she had fractured it on her landing coming out of the Institute. The snipers eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. They had been quiet for some time, just enjoying being with each other, learning each other.

         “Erin?” MacCready’s voice came, breaking the silence. Erin looked up at him, his face was serious, the stark line of his jaw set hard.

         “Yeah Rob?” She answered, using his first name. It felt foreign still, but it felt right.

         “How do you feel? I mean about what happened in the Institute?” He asked quietly. They hadn’t spoken about the ordeal together since being back, except to tell the story to curious settlers. She knew it had been coming, but clenched her teeth anyways.

         “I-We, did what we had to. You’ve seen how people act now that the Institute is gone. We did the right thing. The Commonwealth, hell, the whole world should be left to sort itself out, not have its fate held in the hands of one organization.” She said calmly. MacCready nodded slowly

         “Yeah, I know all that. That isn’t what I was talking about though.” He started. Erin’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard.

         “I meant about Shaun. He was your son, after all and-“

         “Rob, I think…” She started, her voice catching in her throat. She had been thinking it for a few days now, but it was difficult to say it out loud. His eyebrow cocked at her and she cleared her throat.

         “I think my son died on October 23rd 2077\. When the bombs fell. That man, the one who did all those horrible things in the Institute… That wasn’t my son.” She said finally, and surprisingly felt lighter after this revelation, though a tear still escaped the corner of her eye. They were quiet again for a moment, and then MacCready squeezed her closer to him.

         “I’m sorry Erin.” He said solemnly. She nodded and let her thumb stroke through the fine hairs on his chest. Silence came over them again. MacCready was warm on her cool skin and she cuddled closer to him.

         “So what’s our next adventure?” MacCready said eventually from the pillow next to her. She turned to face him, careful not to jostle her bound arm. She smiled wryly at him.

         “You think we need more adventure already? Can’t we just enjoy the calm?”

         “We both know that after all that we won’t be happy enjoying the calm for very long.”

         “I don’t know, I think I could build some more walls and turrets here, then maybe plant some carrots.”

         “Carrots? Gonna become a farmer on me now?”

         “Maybe. Better than a mercenary.” A sly smile slid over Erin’s face at this jab. MacCready jerked back in mock indignation. She laughed out loud, a sound almost foreign to her ears.

         “Yeah well if I wasn’t a merc I never would have met you, now would I?” He asked. Her grin faded to a contented smile and she brushed his cheek lightly.

         “True. I guess it’s not so bad then.” She said, planting a tender kiss on his lips. He returned it passionately.

         “I know what we can do next.” Erin said when they finally parted. MacCready eyed her with suspicious interest and raised a brow.

         “We can go to the Capitol Wasteland. You can show me Rivet City.” She said, letting the implication fall in between her words. MacCready’s cheeks flushed and he stared at her.

         “It’s been a long time Rob. You need to see him if you can. Trust me, the time you have with them isn’t guaranteed.” She said quietly. He kept her eyes, but slowly nodded after a time.

         “Yeah. I think that's a good next adventure to go on with you.” He said softly, a nostalgic look coming across his face.

         “Yeah. It sounds like a good adventure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
